


Root and Shaw Prompt Haven

by pleasanthell



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 03:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 92
Words: 68,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3160001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasanthell/pseuds/pleasanthell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of prompts filled on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh for god’s sakes,” Shaw whirled around and looked at Root. She knew what was going to happen. She knew that the outlook wasn’t good for her. So she let what little feelings she did have out. It was her last chance. She grabbed Root and kissed her.

She lost herself in the kiss for a good few seconds. In a word of pain and death, the kiss was not something that should have felt so good.

But she had to stop it. She had to save her friends. She had to save Root. Shaw grabbed onto Root’s jacket getting ready to shove her away when she felt herself being spun around.

The next thing she knew, she was stumbling backwards toward Finch. “What are you doing?”

Root took a step out of the elevator and pulled the metal grate down between them. She used her foot to secure the latch while waving Shaw’s gun. “Nice try.” She blew a kiss to Shaw with her gun hand and gave her one last genuine smile. She nodded slowly to herself, not letting go of Shaw’s eyes. “See you later, sweetie.”

Root shot at the operatives as she walked to the button, taking a few of them out. She pressed the button and focused her attention on who was coming at her.

Shaw ran to the grate and hit it, trying to get it to give enough so that she could get to Root. She kicked at it and pulled on it. Then the first bullet hit Root.

“No!” Shaw screamed and started hitting the grate harder as the elevator doors started closing. She looked desperately around for some way to stop the elevator.

But when she looked back up at Root she saw her looking right back. Her gun was firing at the mass of operative moving in on her and she was probably hitting them without looking. But she was looking at Shaw. She gave her a warm smile. The smile turned sly and she shot Shaw a wink as the next bullet hit her, sending her crumpling to the ground.

Shaw clawed at the metal grate as her view of Root laying on her back, looking up at Martine with a gun pointed at her head, slimmed to a sliver. When the doors closed completely, there was one last gunshot.

Finch and Fusco carefully grab Shaw and pulled her away from the grate because her hands started bleeding.

By the time the elevator had reached their destination, Shaw had grown absolutely silent and still. Her hands were in her pockets, her chin was level, and her eyes were cold.

“Ms. Shaw,” Harold started, but as soon as the doors opened she walked out calmly and with determination. He called after her, helping Fusco with Reese, “Ms. Shaw!”

The men were in the abandoned subway patching Reese up when Shaw appeared again. Her jaw was set and her expression hadn’t changed. “They have her.”

“What?” Reese asked.

“The Samaritan Ops have Root,” Shaw looked at Harold, “She’s still hooked up to the Machine. Tell me where she is.”

Harold looked around, “I-I don’t think I can do-”

Shaw pulled out a gun and pointed it at Harold, “Now is not the time to mess with me. Tell me. Now.” The broken skin of her knuckles flexed when she adjusted her grip on the gun.

“You know how it works,” Harold swallowed, trying not to outwardly display his fear.

Shaw huffed and pocketed her gun. She walked out the subway again and straight to the nearest camera knowing full well that both The Machine and Samaritan could see her. It only took a second for her cell phone to ring.

A series of voice read off an address to her. This wasn’t a number. This wasn’t a group rescue. It was a mission from the Machine to Shaw.

Root was dancing on the line between conscious and unconscious. She could see her feet dandling over the ground. She could feel her shoulders strain under the weight of her entire body. Her wrists were pressed together and she was hanging from a ceiling.

“It’s a construction site,” Root said whimsically to herself, hoping beyond all hope that The Machine could hear her. “Looks like it’s going to be a loft soon.” She swallowed thickly and felt herself being pulled into a blackness. She didn’t think she was going to be able to stay conscious much longer. After being shot, she was beaten, and tased repeatedly, she figured that she was lucky to still be cognizant. She just answered each hit and shock with a witty remark until her brain couldn’t make them anymore. The operatives went to the empty kitchen of the loft and discussed what to do with Root.

As she closed her eyes, a smile played on her lips. After everything, all the bad shit that happened to her, all the torture, all the loss, she was smiling. Shaw kissed her. It maybe have just been to shut her up, but it was a kiss. Shaw, with her extreme intimacy issues and personal space boundaries, kissed her.

“Not a bad last thing to think about before you die,” Root mused to herself. She let out a soft sigh. She was done fighting it. She couldn’t anymore even if she wanted to. \

Shaw was standing on a street corner outside the last place the Machine sent her into. She had beaten some information out of an operative and was waiting for a call. She had made sure that The Machine saw the confession. She waited for a call next to a bank of payphones.

It rang the second she walked up to one. An address was rattled off in different voices. She put the address in her phone and was about to hang up when she heard more information. “Hotel, Unifrom, Romeo, Romeo, Yankee.”

Shaw wrote down the first letter of the words and muttered to herself, “Hurry.” She dropped the phone, leaving it off of the hook and took off running toward the address.

She reached her destination. She ducked into an alley and used a metal pipe she found in the alley to wretch open the locked back door. In the first hallway, two guards tried to stop her. She put them down without bullets and without breaking stride. She searched the men on the ground, grabbed their elevator key, and hopped on.

Shaw paced in the elevator like a caged animal. If the Machine was telling her to hurry, then Root must really be in trouble. When the doors opened, she found herself in trouble. Three guns were pointed at her and started firing the second they saw who she was. She ducked behind the wall of the elevator and took her gun out.

She fired a few shots, clearing a path for her to enter the loft and duck behind a stack of metal beams for cover. She popped up and shot taking out two of the operatives. When she went back down, she saw Root hanging from an exposed beam, unconscious. “No,” Shaw whispered and hopped over the pile of beams. She shot another operative and ran over to Root.

“Root?” Shaw looked around for something to cut Root down with. She walked over to the dangling woman and grabbed Root around the waist. Then she pointed her gun straight up, shooting the rope holding Root to the ceiling loose. Root limply flopped down over her shoulder.

Shaw slowly lowered Root to the ground, setting her gun down. Shaw tapped her earpiece, “I found Root. We’re uptown.”

“Is she alive?” Reese asked in her ear.

Shaw touched Root’s neck and felt around for a pulse. When she couldn’t find it at first, she panicked, her hand starting to shake. She pressed her fingers to Root’s neck harder and found a faint pulse, “Barely. We gotta get her to the hospital.”

“I’ve sent an ambulance your way,” Harold answered.

“C’mom, Root,” Shaw took Root’s face in her hands, “You can’t let go.”

Root moved slightly, turning her head toward Shaw. She smiled, her eyes barely open, “Hey Sameen.”

“Root, you gotta stay with me,” Shaw looked down at Root’s torso. There was blood everywhere. It was hard to tell where it was coming from.

Root let her eyes slipped closed. “I-I can’t, sweetie.”

Shaw grabbed onto Root’s shirt and balled the material in her fists, “No. You don’t have a choice. You  _have_  to stay with me.” Shaw could see Root slipping away from her. She could see her giving up. Her voice shook when she touched Root’s face and said, “We have a fire to start.”

The sound of a gun cocking sounded closed to Shaw’s head. She knew she should have searched the rest of the loft before getting to Root. She wasn’t thinking clearly. She needed to get to Root before it was too late, but it may have been too late anyway.

Shaw ducked her head and closed her eyes holding onto Root. She leaned closer to Root and buried her face in Root’s neck. It was an intimate action that she knew wasn’t something she would have been able to do anytime soon if Root wasn’t on death’s doorstep.

A single shot sounded throughout the loft. It was followed by a loud thud. When Shaw realized she hadn’t been shot, she looked around. Martine was in a heap on the floor a gun in her hand and a bullet between her eyes.

Then there was another thud. Shaw was Root’s hand on the ground next to her body, her gun in Root’s limp hand.

Root had her eyes closed when Shaw looked at her. She mumbled, “I’m gonna take a nap now, sweetie.”

“No,” Shaw pulled Root up, her head lulling back. She stood and picked up Root, carrying her to the elevator. “Don’t take a nap.” She kicked the button on the elevator and the doors closed. They started descending when she looked down at Root, “Don’t make me kiss you again to wake you up.”

Shaw was relieve to see a slight smile on Root’s face. It seemed that Root was going to say something when her lips parted, but her body went limp instead.

It was a few days later and Shaw was sitting next to the bed Root was laying in. She was alive, but barely. The doctors that had been coming in and out of one of Harold’s penthouses kept telling her that they were hopeful.

Shaw didn’t want hope. She wanted results. She wanted Root. She wanted to be called sweetie.

“I can get you a bed in here Ms. Shaw,” Harold offered.

Shaw shook her head. She was going to sit right where she was sitting until Root woke up.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she sighed softly.

“What do you mean?” Harold asked.

Shaw looked Root over. “She…” She couldn’t even say the words. She looked down at the rug under her feet and then back at Root, “She loves me doesn’t she?”

“I believe so,” Harold nodded. He walked to the foot of the bed.

Shaw sighed heavily and leaned back in her chair. She didn’t know how to articulate what she was feeling. She never knew how to do that because she so rarely felt things. But what she felt for Root was strong. She wondered what it would be like if she was normal. If she had the normal range of emotions, there’s no telling what she would have done or said when she realized she started falling for the witty assassin. Maybe she wouldn’t feel so guilty that Root may never wake up without ever really being told how she felt.

Harold and Shaw didn’t move for the next several minutes. Shaw didn’t know what to say and Harold wanted to be there if she wanted to say something.

A movement stunned both of them when they looked at the bed. Root rolled over onto her side, away from Shaw and started muttering something.

“What?” Shaw stood up and walked to the other side of the bed.

Root scratched her nose and readjusted her head on the pillow. She mumbled again more coherently. It was a number. Harold quickly committed the number to memory and called Reese as he walked out the door. They had been without their human analog for almost a week. Although he could still use the old method of figuring out what the Machine meant, it was quicker and easier when someone just said the numbers out loud.

 “Root?” Shaw knelt down next to the bed. “Root? Are you awake?”

“Sorta,” Root answered, snuggling deeper into her pillow. She heaved open her eyes with great effort and found Shaw looking back at her, concerned, “Hey Sameen.”

Shaw let her head fall back and she let out a deep sigh of relief. She had waited to hear Root say her name for almost a week and it was the sweetest thing she’d ever heard.

Root’s smile was effortless when she saw Shaw relieved. She didn’t say anything though. It was hard enough for her to just stay awake.

“I, um, I’m glad you’re okay,” Shaw offered trying hard not to stumble on her words.

Root let her eyes slip closed, “I’m glad you’re okay too.”

“Root,” Shaw panicked when she saw Root about to fall unconscious again. She licked her lips when Root opened her eyes to look at her. “I just…I want you to know that…” She gulped finding her courage waning.

“I know,” Root told her. The look on her face was one of understanding. She knew Shaw. She knew that Shaw was scared and that feelings were hard for her. She was wired differently, but not defectively.

Shaw looked down at the carpet and back at Root, “I got scared.”

Root held Shaw’s eyes. There was never a vulnerability in Shaw’s walls. But Root could see her creating a hole in the wall so Shaw could peek out. “We always make it out, right?”

Shaw frowned. This time Root almost didn’t make it out alive. If the Machine hadn’t been so fond of her, Shaw was sure that Root would have died, hanging from the rafters of an uptown loft. She fought with herself over what to say back but in the end she just dipped her head down and gently kissed Root.

Root could feel her whole body warming from the kiss. She bit her lip with Shaw sat back down. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to start to think you like me or something.”

Shaw rolled her eyes, but when she saw Root smile, she smiled as well. “Maybe.”

Root went to sleep a few minutes later and Shaw sat next to her. She looked at Root’s peaceful face. She reached forward to pushed some hair out of her face, but retracted her hand, not sure it she should. But when she did, she was glad she did. Root hummed softly, sinking deeper into sleep.

Shaw smiled softly. She was so, so thankful that Root understood her. It would be a long, weird road ahead, but at least they had each other.


	2. Chapter 2

Her head hurt. Her arm shirt. Her stomach hurt. That was the first thing that really came together to make sense in her head when she woke up. She hurt.

Shaw prepared to open her eyes and find herself in some Samaritan stronghold about to be in much more pain unless she told them everything she knew. However, when she slowly opened one eye she found herself in the abandoned subway station she had come to call home.

She was laying on a bed, hooked up to the kind of IVs and monitors one would expect in a hospital. Her bed looked like it came right out of a hospital. She was inside the subway car, housed between the empty seats. She slowly sat up, to see if she could find anyone else. Her t-shirt slid into it’s proper position and the sweatpants she was wearing twisted with her movement.

All she could see from her spot was a pillow and blankets laying across a row of seats right next to her. The computers were still in place. It was just like everyone vanished.

“Hello?” she called.

“Ms. Shaw,” Harold’s voice appeared before he did. Shaw saw him walk around the front of the subway train and used the stairs to get on the platform before he entered. “It’s good to see you awake.”

“How long have I been out?” she asked, starting to take the IV out of her arm.

“Eleven days,” he told her and gently put his hand on her shoulder. “You should stay lying down. You’ve been stationary for quite some time.”

Shaw took stock of her body and found that it would probably be wisest to at least stay seated. “How did you stop them from killing me?”

“ _We_  didn’t,” Harold answered looking at the computer for a moment, “Samaritan did.”

“Another Samaritan game?” Shaw asked, deciding that wise choices were for people who didn’t have places to be. She took the IV out of her arm and started removing the monitors on her body.

When the machines started wailing, Harold moved to them to turn them off, knowing that talking Shaw into keeping herself in the bed wasn’t going to happen. “It seems that Samaritan decided that killing you was the fastest way to mutually assured destruction.”

Shaw grabbed a jacket hanging on the handle bar over the bed, “What does that mean? Both Samaritan and the Machine would go to war over me?”

“No,” Harold helped Shaw stand. She was wobbly at first, but managed to hold herself up after a few seconds. “It means that Ms. Groves would. A war, the outcome of which, would have been catastrophic.”

Shaw looked up at Harold and held his eyes, making sure that he was telling her the truth. “What would have happened?”

“Most scenarios point to complete annihilation of Samaritan and The Machine by a super virus that would have taken down both AIs, everyone attached to them in any way,” Harold let go of Shaw and took a step back, seeing if she could really stand on her own, “And most of the major electronic infrastructures in the world. Not killing you was an act of self-preservation.”

Shaw flexed her jaw and asked, “Where’s everyone else?”

“Mr. Reese is out with a number,” Harold stood next to Shaw, “Ms. Groves is…out.”

Shaw frowned at the unusually mysterious answer. “Out?”

“To be honest, I have no idea where she is,” Harold answered. He gestured to the blanket and pillow on the hard plastic seats of the subway car, “She sleeps here. She works here. But sometimes…she just disappears.”

“She…sleeps here?” Shaw asked more to herself than Harold.

Talking coming down the stairs interrupted their conversation. Shaw looked around for a weapon and picked up her gun off of the crate next to the computer. She moved to the door of the subway car before realizing who was coming toward her.

“She says to take the alley on your left,” Root said to Reese through their earpieces as she walked down the stairs. “I know. Trust me.” She smiled, “Goodbye Reese.”

When she stepped onto the platform, she grinned widely at Shaw, a white bag swinging from her hand. “Good morning sweetie.” Shaw watched Root take the bag to the row of wooden chairs on the platform. She set the bag down and took off her jacket. “I got you something.”

Shaw could smell it from where she stood. It was probably because she was starving. She walked over to the chairs and sat down, the short trip having used all the waning energy in her body.

“How do you feel?” Root asked, watching Shaw unwrap the sandwich with a light smile on her face.

“Hungry,” Shaw took a bite of the sandwich and moaned. She looked at Root, “How did you know I was awake?”

Root rested her elbow on the back of the chair so that she could face Shaw. She pointed to a small camera pointed in the front of the subway, “A very complex network of relays and VPNs make the feed secure. It comes on for ten seconds every three hours. She tells me what she sees.”

Shaw was halfway through the sandwich by the time Root finished explaining. She could feel her strength coming back with every bite. It may have been in her head, but the food was definitely helping. She smirked as she finished and looked at Root, “Mutually assured destruction huh?”

Root grinned, “Well you know me. I don’t handle loss well. To be fair, there was only an 85% probability that I would have sent the world back a hundred years.”

Shaw smiled and looked over Root’s face. Her smile faded and she stood up to throw the sandwich wrapper away, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Right back at you,” Root didn’t move from her seat on the chair.

Shaw walked back to the seat next to Root and gingerly sat down. “I, um…” She rolled her eyes at herself and used one swift hand on the back of Root’s neck to pull her into a kiss. Root smiled into it before gently putting her hand on Shaw’s jaw, drawing her deeper into a kiss.

Shaw was the first to pull back, resting her forehead on Root’s. Root bit her lip over a smile. She was so happy that Sameen was okay.

Her smile faded into a sigh. “I hate to leave you like this, but I just got a big number.”

“I’ll come with you,” Shaw stood up and offered her hands to Root. Root took them and allowed Shaw to pull her up.

“Shouldn’t you-” Root’s words were muffled by Shaw’s lips pressed to hers. When Shaw fall back on her heels Root smirked, “You can’t just kiss me to get your way.”

“I can kiss you or I can shoot you,” Shaw answered pulling the gun out of the back of her pants, “And you were just starting to grow on me.” Shaw grabbed some boots on her way up the stairs.

Root smiled widely and followed Shaw, “Bye Harold.”

Harold smiled to himself and went back to the computer. He had really missed that smile. 


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey Sameen.”

Shaw huffed, but with a small smile on her face. She put her hands in her pockets and kept walking on the crowded sidewalk. “Root.”

Root smiled giddily and leaned back in her chair. “It’s a beautiful day. A rooftop picnic? You can get the sandwiches.”

“Seriously?” Shaw looked up spotting a camera looking at her, “It’s my day off.” She stepped up to her favorite sandwich place and got in line.

“Nine o’clock,” Root stated.

“What?” Shaw asked trying to determine how long she was going to have to wait in line before she got her beloved sandwich. Then she looked to her nine o’clock and saw what Root wanted her to see. It was Root herself.

Shaw walked over to the small metal table for two in a group of them on the sidewalk. She wouldn’t have sat down if it wasn’t for the sandwich. “Are you stalking me on our day off?”

“What else am I going to do?” Root surveyed Shaw who was paying more attention to the sandwich than to her. She didn’t mind. She loved that the only emotion she could see came through Shaw’s eyes. She was happy. She had a day off and she didn’t have to wait in line for her favorite sandwich.

Shaw was unwrapping the sandwich when everything faded out.

“No,” Root whispered. Her eyes shot open and she sat up. She was in an empty room with open windows in a high rise. The old wooden floors creaked when she stood from the chaise she had been laying on. “No!” Root looked at the ceiling listening for a moment before desperately replying, “I don’t care. Put me back.”

She could feel the tears coming. She had done everything she could to avoid the tears. She had hidden in vengeance. She had hidden in a wild hope. She had finally started hiding in simulations. The Machine was so ingrained in her brain that The Machine’s scenario simulator could pull her out of reality for a few minutes at a time. For a few minutes at a time, she could have Shaw back.

“Put me back,” Root leaned on the wall of the apartment near the window when The Machine had grown silent in her head. She dissolved into tears and a crumpled heap on the floor. She dropped her face in her hands, begging one last time, “I want to see her.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes, “Please.” The tears overwhelmed her. She felt like her entire body was being crushed. “Please.” Her voice was tiny and soft, “I need to see her.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Where’s Root?” Reese slowly sat up from his makeshift bed in the subway station. He had been beat up and shot enough times to take him down for a few hours.

Harold swiveled around in his chair, his eyes sad and heartbroken. “She’s still looking.”

Reese pushed himself up off of the bed and grabbed his coat to cover up his bloodstained shirt. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Harold answered quietly. The Machine wouldn’t tell him where she was and Root certainly wasn’t answering any of his communication attempts.

Reese buttoned his coat and picked up his gun off of the table, “Where’s Bear?”

Harold looked around, realizing that he didn’t know where the dog was.

Across town, Root was walking around the city in the dark on autopilot. She didn’t know where she was going. She was too drained to care. Her feet shuffled in the snow. She didn’t stop walking. She would have realized that she was freezing if she could feel anything.

A small whine behind her made Root turn around. Bear was sitting on the corner behind her, his leash in his hand.

Root smiled softly at the dog. “Did you come to see me?”

Bear trotted over to her and sat in front of her. She took the leash from his mouth and hooked it onto his collar. Then Bear started walking. Root just followed him, hoping that he was going to lead her somewhere that would give her some kind of lead.

They walked through the icy streets, Bear occasionally sniffing the ground. Then he turned into the building. They went up the stairs and down a hallway before Bear sat down in front of the door.

Root knew where they were the second Bear sat down. She swallowed, trying to get her body to start moving again. Bear scratched at the door once which set Root to moving. She turned the handle on the door and pushed it open, finding it unlocked.

She held her breath as the door swung open hoping beyond all hope that Shaw would be in her apartment looking out the window and sleeping in the bed. She wanted Shaw to be okay and hiding out while she was on the mend.

Tears sprang to her eyes when she found that apartment completely empty. A lamp was still on near the bed, but other than that, the apartment was cold and unoccupied.

Bear walked into the apartment, pulling Root with him. Root let go of his leash as she gently closed the door behind herself.

When she turned around, she found Bear hopping up onto the bed. He sniffed around and then started walking in a circle. He found the space he wanted and laid down on the bed, stretching lengthwise across half of it.

Root moved to the bed, kicking off her shoes as she walked. She laid down next to Bear, finding herself assaulted with the smell that was uniquely Shaw. A trace a high end perfume and gunpowder.

Tears started to silently track down Root’s face. Bear whined softly and moved closer to her, laying the top of his head against her chest.

Root ruffled his fur and then softly scratched behind his ears, “I miss her too.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Professor?”

She looked up from her book and moved her gaze to the door of her apartment. She stood from her antique couch as she closed her book. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“No,” Root lingered near the doorway. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to make it presentable after it had been stuck under a wig on a three hour plane ride and a wild taxi ride later. Root didn’t really have a plan going into this. She looked at the flowers in her hand and then at the elderly woman in front of her. “Sort of. We have a mutual friend.” She nervously gestured to the flowers.

The woman blinked and walked to the strange woman at the door, “Oh? Which friend? I may not remember anyone half the time, but maybe today is a good day.” She was kind and accepted the flowers. She smelled them and placed them on an end table by the couch. “Would you like some tea?”

“Oh no. Thank you,” Root put her hands in her back pockets, “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“Nonsense,” the woman walked to the tiny kitchen in the corner and plugged in an electric kettle. “It’ll be a few minutes.” She gestured to the couch, “Come sit down. Tell me about our friend.”

Root moved to the couch and sat down timidly. She kept her hands in her lap and kept excellent posture. “I’m friends with Sameen.”

The woman blinked. A smile crossed her lips, “Ah, my baby.”

Root smiled softly and nodded, “Yeah.” Root tucked some hair behind her ear, “Um, I know she usually comes to see you today, but…she’s…a little tied up so I offered to come. I know it’s no consolation. And if you don’t want me here I can-”

The woman put her hand on Root’s folded hands and told her, “I know Sameen is busy at the hospital. It is so kind of you to come.” The kettle started to whistle and Sameen’s mom stood up to get it. She got her best China out of the small cabinet and retried the teabags from the cupboard.

Root got up to help her because her hands were shaking while she poured the tea. Root carried the tea to the coffee table and they sat down on the couch again.

“What is your name, dear?” Sameen’s mother asked.

“Everyone calls me Root.”

“Well my friends call me Sara,” Sameen’s mother smiled gently at Root.

Root smiled back, “May I call you Sara?”

“We are having tea,” Sara picked up her tea with an involuntarily shaking hand, “I believe that makes us friends.”

Root took a sip of her tea. She hummed in approval and balanced the tea cup between her knees. “I don’t know what Sameen does with you on these days, but if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. There’s a car waiting downstairs if you’d like to go anywhere.”

Sara patted Root’s shoulder, “I’m glad Sameen has found such a good friend in you, Root.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Root answered, trying to keep a solid front. She couldn’t tell Sara that she had no idea where her daughter was or if she was even alive. She had paused her manhunt to see Sara because she knew Shaw probably wouldn’t make it. The machine had told her years ago about what Sameen did once a year and it was something that always stuck with Root.

“What do you do for a living, Root?” Sara asked, “I suppose your nickname would indicate that you’re a computer person.”

“I am,” Root smiled, “I made some money with some programs I wrote in college and…,” she shrugged, “Here I am.”

When they finished their tea, Sara asked if they could go one place. Root helped Sara get her coat on and gladly worked as Sara’s crutch to the door. When they were out in the hallway, Sara turned around and locked the door. She tucked the keys away in her bag and took Root’s arm again. They walked slowly down the hallway as people walked around them, all cheery and greeting Sara happily. One of them reminded Sara to remember to sign out.

They stopped at a flower shop on the way to their destination. When the driver, pulled to a stop in the cemetery, Root felt her body get weak. The driver opened the door for them and Root got out first, helping Sara out after her.

Root put her hand on top of the ones clutching her arm as they moved closer to the headstone. At the foot of the grave, Sara let go of Root and slowly walked to the headstone, placing the flowers on top of it.

Tears sprang to Root’s eyes. She couldn’t rip her eyes away from the gravestone. The rest of it was blurry from tears, but she could see the name Shaw clear as day. She swallowed and tried to hold it together. She didn’t fly across the country to upset Sara. She sniffled and wiped her eyes before Sara turned to look at her.

“Something happened to my Sameen,” Sara stated, turning back to the gravestone. “A few years ago she showed up here bleeding through her shirt. She never missed the anniversary of her father’s passing. No matter how tied up she was,” Sara turned around and looked at Root, “Something happened to her.”

Root was having trouble holding it together when Sara looked at her. She moved her eyes to the gravestone so she didn’t have to look directly at Sara. She clenched her jaw and nodded, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes.

Sara walked back to Root and pulled Root down into a hug. “I know what Sameen does for a living. I just pretend that I don’t. I know what she does is brave and dangerous. I knew something like this would happen eventually.”

“I’ll find her,” Root promised, accepting the hug and finding solace in it. “I swear.”

“I believe you,” Sara pulled away and looked at Root’s face. She smiled softly, “Don’t look so sad. Sameen is the toughest woman I know. She’ll be alright.”

Root nodded, taking in Sara's words. She smiled back, “I didn’t come here to cry in front of you.”

Sara grinned and touched Root’s face, “That’s what mothers are for.”

Root insisted on taking Sara grocery and clothes shopping before they went back to her assisted living apartment. Root put away all the groceries, hung up the new clothes, and slipped an envelope of cash into Sara’s purse when she wasn’t looking.

As the sun started to set, Root told Sara that she needed to leave. Sara walked Root to the door and hugged her. “When you find that daughter of mine, you bring her here and I’ll make dinner.”

Root smiled, more hopefully than ever before, “I will. I promise.” With one last hug, Root left with an entirely new sense of purpose. She was going to find Sameen. No matter what.

  


 


	6. Animals - Maroon 5

She could feel herself being watched. She couldn’t see anyone in the crowd paying special attention to her, but she could feel it.

Root felt her cover move closer to her and put her arms around her waist. She closed her eyes and tried to lose herself in the music and her partner. She’d known the woman for only a few hours, but she agreed to go dancing because she didn’t know anyone in her new town. She needed it to look like she belonged so that she wouldn’t be found.

Her date whispered flattering words in her ear while they dance and Root really wanted to feel it. She wanted to be in the moment. But she couldn’t. She knew she was being watched.

Somewhere in the crowd, someone was studying her.

But Root knew she was safe in a crowd. The kind of people that were after her, didn’t want to cause a scene. They didn’t want to be seen. As the night went on, the room started to feel quieter even though the music was almost deafening. It got quiet in her head and she could hear the footsteps getting closer. They echoed in her brain until she told her date she’d be right back.

Root made sure she walked by herself down the hallway toward the bathrooms. She passed the line and found a door the led to an alley. She looked around and started walking toward her hotel. She was going to have to grab her stuff and leave.

As she walked, shadows moved behind her. Her heart started pounding. The Machine couldn’t identify whoever was following her because their face was concealed. It meant that whoever was following her knew how The Machine worked and would avoid cameras at all cost.

Root made her way toward her hotel. She found the street terrifyingly empty and she still had two blocks to walk in a straight line. She hear a gunshot and ducked into an alley. She pulled her own gun out of her thigh holster that was hidden by her tight cocktail dress. She kept moving down the alley, hoping that it led to another alley that would lead her to her hotel.

However another shot went off, clipping the wall to her right, forcing her to turn down another alley that was in the opposite direction of her hotel. Another shot pushed her to her right into an alley parallel to the one her street was on. There was a small park across the street and she crossed the street, hoping to lose her tail in the vegetation.

She followed a path until there were trees dense enough to hide in. She ditched her heels, tossing them farther down the trail hoping to throw off whoever was following her.

Root heard booted footsteps walk down the path with purpose. She couldn’t make out a figure because the lights in the park were made for a romantic walk, not identifying who was trying to kill you.

When the attacker wandered deeper into the park, Root ran back to her hotel. Before she turned the corner, she put her gun away. The doorman looked at her like she was crazy, all disheveled and barefooted, but she put on a smile, “My heel broke.”

Her hotel was historic and the elevators were slow. She didn’t have time to wait for them. She walked the six flights of stairs up to her room and used the metal key to open the door that had spent the night safely tucked in her bra.

Once in her hotel room, she let out a sigh of relief. She locked all the locks on the door and checked the bathroom before taking her gun out of it’s holster. She placed it on the dresser as she walked by it and went to the table in the far corner of the room.

The sound of a gun safety being turned off, made her stop cold. It wasn’t a second later that she could feel another body’s heat on her back. She put her hands up and closed her eyes. She knew she shouldn’t have left her balcony door open. The warm Mediterranean nights were just so tempting.

But she wasn’t just going to give up. She hadn’t been on the run for months just to be shot in a hotel room. She whirled around, grabbing her assailant’s wrist, pushing the gun away from her. The gun dropped to the ground as the person attacking her rushed her, nailing her hard against the wall behind her. For a moment, Root lost her breath. She made a kick for the person’s stomach, but they grabbed her leg at it went up, redirecting it outside the person’s legs.

Root froze in place, feeling a strong hand wrapped around her neck. It wasn’t just any strong hand either.

The only light in the room came from the lights of the city reflected off of the water, but she knew who held her life in their hands. She could see the familiar eyes looking at her from behind the protection of a ski mask.

They were both paused in place, looking at each others eyes until Root moved. She slowly moved her hands toward the person’s face. She gathered the ski mask in her fingers and lifted it off of Shaw’s face.

She had caught glimpses of Shaw’s face in crowds. It was just like when Shaw chased her before they both joined Team Machine. Root’s breath caught in her throat when she felt the hand on her outer tight tighten.

Root lost her ability to think clearly when Shaw’s lips crashed against hers. Her hands went to Shaw’s jaw, sliding around to her neck, pulling her deeper into the kiss. The kiss was chaotic, a hurricane running between them, forcing them closer together.

Shaw roughly pulled Root from the wall and pushed her onto the bed. Shaw took off her shirt as she moved to the bed. She only got the change to unbutton her pants before Root pulled her down onto the bed.

Shaw ripped Root’s dress off at the seams, not having time to find the zipper. The bed shook and the lamp fell off the nightstand. The sheets were long forgotten in a heap on the floor. Pillows were only used to muffle screams of pleasure.

It was hours later when Shaw fell onto her back, the sweat on her chest catching the light from the boats on the water.

Root looked up at the slatted headboard. She was sure Shaw was about to drift off to sleep so she reached up between the mattress and the headboard. It only took a second for her to retrieve her taser. Just as she was about to bring it down on Shaw’s neck, Shaw swiftly grabbed her wrist, straddling her waist.

Shaw forced Root’s arm above her head. She secured Root to the headboard with the handcuffs she had retrieved from her pile of clothes while Root was trying to stealthily get her taser.

The taser was removed from her hand and Shaw sat back, still straddling Root’s waist. Shaw quirked an eyebrow at Shaw and tested the taser in her hand. Shaw turned the taser over and removed the batteries. She tossed them out the window and then threw the taser at the wall hard enough to break it.

Root watched Shaw eye her greedily. She dipped her head down and kissed Root’s neck, slowly teasing the trapped woman under her. She had won. She captured the prize. She was going to revel in the spoils.

When Shaw woke up the next morning, the knew she was alone in the bed before she even opened her eyes. She sat up slowly, the blanket that wasn’t there when she went to sleep sliding off of her shoulders. She saw a bobbypin sticking out of the handcuffs that were still hanging off of the bed.

Root’s things were gone with the exception of the broken taser on the ground. Shaw pulled on her pants and her shirt. There was a bottle of water on the nightstand that she picked up on her way to the balcony. She watched the boats leave for their early morning fishing excursions.

The docks were a few blocks away, but Shaw could see her. Root was standing on the back of a small boat that was slowly starting to motor away from the shore. Root was still on the back of the boat, looking at the hotel. Their eyes met and Shaw took a slow drink of her water, watching Root.

Root didn’t make any kind of move as her hair blew in the wind coming off the ocean. A small smile broke out on Shaw’s lips. Even from their distance, she could see a hint of a smile on Root’s face. Shaw leaned on the railing and watched the boat leave the harbor. She was going to let Root have a head start.


	7. Guns and Deli Sandwiches

A knock on Shaw’s apartment door woke her up. She grabbed the nearest weapons to her, a nine millimeter handgun that was tucked between the mattress andbedframe. She sleepily trudged her way to the door and opened it, gun in hand. The man in the bright yellow and blue uniform smiled brightly at her. He offered her a bouquet of roses and a stuffed teddy bear, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Shaw stared blankly at the man for a moment before accepting the gifts and closing the door. She dropped the gifts on the table and started looking through the roses for a card trying to figure out what kind of lunatic would send her these kinds of things. She tore off the red tissue paper around the stems of the roses and found something completely unexpected. A Mac 10 was hidden in the stems, disassembled so it wouldn’t look too suspicious in the rose stems. Shaw took it out and put it together, finding a fully functioning, mint condition automatic weapon.

She looked at the teddy bear on the table and poked it. It definitely didn’t feel like a teddy bear should. She grabbed a knife off of her nightstand and flipped it open. She cut into the teddy bear and ripped it open finding that there was only a thin layer of stuffing. She turned the bear over and bullets started falling out. There had to be at least two hundred inside of the bear.

Shaw knew that the bullets fit her new gun. She loaded it and admired the gun.

Then Finch called her in for a number. She asked if there was any reason she should bring an automatic gun. Really any reason. He was a slightly appalled and assured her that it wouldn’t be necessary.

She and John went to stakeout an apartment and while they were sitting in the car a woman knocked on Shaw’s window.

“What the hell?” Shaw asked and rolled down the window a crack. “What?”

The woman smiled, “I have a delivery for a -” She consulted her clipboard, “Sam.. doesn’t have a last name.”

“To this car on this corner?” Shaw asked, seeing a massive heart shaped box in the woman’s arms.

The woman nodded. “Are you Sam?”

Shaw rolled her eyes and took the box from the woman. It was a lot heavier than she expected. John handed Shaw a ten and Shaw handed it to the woman before rolling up her window.

“Secret admirer, Shaw?” John asked.

Shaw cut the tape holding the box closed and pulled it open. Just like the first delivery, what was inside the traditional box was anything but. Two BU9 Nano guns were in the top of the heart and two full sized handguns were in the bottom. Placed in the nest of handguns was a sandwich. And it wasn’t just any sandwich. Shaw could smelled her favorite sandwich on the planet anywhere and it was right in front of her.

“Not so secret admirer,” Shaw grinned and picked up the sandwich, “Happy Valentine’s Day to me.”

There was a buzzing in the car and John turned on the speaker phone knowing it was one of two people who could figure out the number in the car. Gunshots sounded before a voice spoke, “Hey kids.”

“Root,” John answered because Shaw’s mouth was full.

“You might want to move your car,” Root added and paused when there was more gunshots, “There’s going to be an accident there in a few seconds.”

John started the car and moved it out of the way. Shaw took a bite of her sandwich as they moved just across the street and asked, “You need backup, Root?”

“No,” Root answered with a smile in her voice, “But thank you for asking.”

A truck plowed into the side of the building they were just parked at and Shaw watched in the rearview mirror, “How’d you get a sandwich here from Philly? It’s still hot.”

“I borrowed a jet,” Root answered. There was more gunfire and what sounded like an explosion, “Gotta go.” The phone went dead and John looked over at Shaw.

John looked over at Shaw, but she put her finger up, “Don’t say a word.”

John smiled and looked out the door. “Looks like our guy came out to see the crash. You wanna go talk to him.”

“You can go talk to him,” Shaw answered and took another bite of her sandwich, “I’m good here.”

Dealing with their number didn’t take as long as they thought. He turned out to be the perpetrator who was planning a heist. They caught him, Shaw critiqued the heist, pointing out all the flaws, then they turned him over the NYPD. They met with Harold in the subway and found two really small heart shaped boxes on Harold’s desk. They were cheap boxes one labeled ‘Harold’ and the other labeled ‘John’. Shaw watched them open the boxes to find that there was actual chocolate in them.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, fellas,” Root’s voice drifted in from the stairs before she did. She was dressed in an evening red evening gown with another black dress on a hanger in her hand with matching heels hanging on the hanger. She smiled at Shaw, “Sameen.”

Shaw knew who the extra dress was for. She narrowed her eyes, “Where?”

“The best steakhouse in town,” Root answered.

“Car?” Shaw asked.

Root grinned and walked to Shaw, stopping in front of her, “A black Aventador that’s parked on the street upstairs,” she nodded to the stairs.”

Shaw narrowed her eyes, “Expectations?”

Root smiled fondly at Shaw, “To watch you eat a steak like a ravenous wolf, drink eighty year old scotch like it’s water, and sit in the passenger’s seat while you drive a Lamborghini like a maniac.” Root shrugged, “Then I go home.”

Shaw looked over Root’s face and knew that she was telling the truth. She just wanted them to spend the evening together. There would be no pressure or expectations. It was really a first for Shaw. Most people who wanted to date her, wanted to change her or help her discover some deep feelings that weren’t actually there. Root just wanted to give her guns, feed her, then send her home in a nice car.

Shaw took the dress from Root and walked into the sleeping area of the subway that had a screen between her and everyone else.

“Thanks for the chocolate,” Reese told Root while Shaw was changing.

“I didn’t want you boys to feel left out,” Root grinned.

Shaw emerged quickly from behind the screen in her dress and heels. She had found the secret elastic band sewn into the dress with a brand new, ultra sharp knife tucked into it. She walked past Root and to the stairs, not wanting John to say anything to her.

When they got to street level, there was a black Aventador waiting on the curb for them. Root opened the driver’s side door for Shaw and handed her the key as they got in.

Shaw smiled the whole way to the restaurant because she was driving such a beautiful machine. She was definitely going to have to take it for a spin outside of the town so she could really open it up.

They didn’t have to wait to be seated. Root didn’t pressure Shaw to talk or to engage in any kind of social interaction. She just happily watched Shaw indulge herself. They drank expensive scotch and ate the best steaks money could buy. Shaw moaned loudly a few times while eating the steak, drawing concerned looks from people around them. But Root didn’t care. She was getting exactly what she wanted for Valentine’s Day.

The check was already paid when they finished eating and they walked outside into the cool night air, full and content. The valet pulled up the car and they both got in. Shaw drove around aimlessly for a little while before Root asked her to pull over.

When Root got out, Shaw did too, sure that someone close by was in danger. She had one of her new nanos strapped to her thigh in case of an emergency so she was ready.

Root led the way into an underground casino. They didn’t stop anyone in the casino and no one in the casino stopped them. They broke into the back room and found a man tied to a chair, being beaten. Root and Shaw shot up the people holding him hostage. They had to fight their way out of casino after the patrons ran out after the gunfire. Men in suits shot at them pinning them down.

Shaw spotted a propane tank being used to heat the buffet food. She smiled wickedly and soon after, an explosion rocked the underground casino. Root and Shaw walked out of the smoking building as sirens started to make their way closer.

“We better hurry,” Shaw told Root as she ran to the car.

Root stood on the sidewalk, watching Shaw, “This is where my night ends. Thank you for joining me.”

Shaw stopped at the curb and looked at Root. She tucked her gun into the holster on her tight and looked at Root. “Yeah, uh, thanks for tonight. It was….not the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

Root grinned and tucked some hair behind her ear, “We should do it again next year.”

Shaw nodded, “Next year.”

Root turned away from Shaw and started walking away. Shaw stepped closer to her and grabbed Root’s arm, spinning her around. She put her hand on the back of Root’s neck and pulled her down for an intense kiss that surprised Root and made her knees waiver.

Root pulled away from the kiss, placing a soft hand on Root’s cheek. She smiled and pressed her forehead to Shaw’s. She knew that that was her present. “Thank you,” she breathed out.

Shaw nodded when Root took a step back. Root gave Shaw one last tender smile before turning around and walking off. Shaw leaned back on the hood of the car and watched Root disappear around the corner.

Shaw got into the car and thought about Root for a while as she sped around the countryside. When she stopped to fill up the car, she decided to check out the car and found a Russian RPG in the trunk. With a smile on her face, Shaw closed the trunk, adding to herself, “Next year.”


	8. Chapter 8

It started in Bogota. No matter how hard Shaw tried, she always seemed to be one step behind Root. It was before she cared about Harold and Reese’s mission. Before Root and the Machine had a hardline connection. Before the most interesting chapter of Shaw’s very interesting life started.

Shaw made her way up the stairs of a tiny, run down apartment complex. She took mental stock of all of the weapons strapped to her body as she made it to the top of the stairs. She kicked the door in of the only apartment on the top floor. There was no sound inside. The small one room space was empty. The window was open so she ran to it and looked out, but didn’t find anything, but the bustling city below. She felt the bed. It was only warm in one small area, too warm to be a person. Most likely a computer.

There was an upside down crate next to the bed acting as a night stand. There was nothing on it, but a single rose. Shaw didn’t think anything of it until she found one in an empty office in Panana City.

There was one at a vacant table in a cafe she tracked Root to in Sao Paulo. The roses started to become accompanied with food. Pastries and take-out left next to the roses. Shaw knew that Root found their game of cat and mouse to be an amusing game. She also knew that Root’s intention was not to kill her. Root liked to play and Shaw found it annoying.

The gifts left started to become more extravagant. Special bullets in a magazine that fit her gun perfectly. A computerized sniper rifle. Diving watch. Knives and tactical sunglasses.

Shaw became more and more intrigued by Root. She needed to find her. She had to know what was wrong with someone who left gifts for their stalker.

Shaw was eating a pastry Root left her in Rome when she got a text message. It was an eticket to a flight to New York City. It seemed the lack of lethal gifts Root left her, was replaced by the biggest clue she’d ever had in her hunt for Root.

After a few calls and surveillance, she actually saw Root. Root was wearing a scarf and a smile as she walked into the airport. She looked up in Shaw’s direction like she knew exactly where she was.

Shaw walked into the airport after Root and saw her walking behind the security gate. Shaw had already shipped her weapons to New York ahead of herself. She knew that she was going to New York if she was following Root or not.

She went through the checkpoint and heard the final boarding call for her plane. She got on the plane and was surprised to see none other than Root a few rows ahead of her. Root didn’t even look up when she passed. She just sat there on her laptop, typing away.

Shaw took her seat, knowing that there was no way Root was going to get away while they were on the plane. At least Root put her in first class.

The gifts kept coming mid-flight. Free drinks and the best food on the plane were sent right to her seat. She was given the best pillows and blankets and headphones that were actually unused. She could also keep an eye on Root the entire flight. Root never moved from her seat. She just typed. When everyone else on the plane was sleeping, Root was typing.

When they landed there was a mad dash to get off of the plane. Everyone had been on the plane for twelve hours and they were ready to get out. No matter how much elbowing she did, Shaw lost Root in the funneling of the people out the plane door.

As she was walking out of the airport, she saw a bag sticking out of the trashcan with a familiar laptop in it. Shaw grabbed it and walked out the door with it. She flagged down a cab and got into it. “Just start driving toward Midtown.”

In the backseat she opened the computer. The screen flickered on, barely able to stay on. She was only able to read one name on the screen before it flickered off, flashed blue, and started smoking. Root threw the laptop out the window.

It burst into flames on the side of the road. Shaw grabbed her phone and ran a search: Earnst Thornhill.


	9. Shaw's boggart

The little boy kicked his feet on the seat of the taxi between Root and Shaw after they rescued him from some bad people. He fiddle with a toy in his hand and then looked over at Shaw, “What’s your boggart?”

“Your worst fear,” Root explained, “A boggart is a spirit who caused mischief in English folklore or kidnapped children. A nicer version was put in Harry Potter. It showed the children their biggest fear.”

“I don’t have fear, kid,” Shaw looked out the window of the cab.

Root smiled and whispered something to the boy. He giggled and looked at Shaw, drawing her attention.

Shaw narrowed her eyes at Root, then asked the kid, “What did she say?”

“She said you’re scared of cooties,” he grinned.

Shaw gestured to Root, “Just  _her_  cooties.”

The boy looked at Root, “What’s your boggart?”

Root’s smile turned nervous. She shook her head, “I don’t think I have one.”

Shaw studied Root, but let it go. They were almost to the kid’s drop site anyway. After they unloaded him to his uncle, they walked back toward the abandoned subway, “You’re boggart is being alone again.”

Root blinked, but didn’t say anything. She tried to make light of the situation, “And yours is the health department finally closing down your favorite deli.”

“You’re not alone anymore,” Shaw stated, “Even if The Machine goes away again.” She stopped at the entrance to the stairs and let Root go first, “You’ll always have Lionel.”

Root smiled fully, walking down the stairs in front of Shaw. That was a close as she as going to get to reassurance from Shaw and she would take it.


	10. Chapter 10

Shaw looked up when she heard the sound of a helicopter over them. “Reese,” she moved quietly through the living room of the under construction penthouse. “I’ve got a chopper on the roof. Do you have eyes on Hightower?”

“He’s coming out the roof access,” Reese answered, “I’ll tail him in the car. You two okay up there?”

Shaw moved to the front door of the penthouse and leaned back against the wall. She peeked around the corner and spotted a small team of heavily armed men sweeping through the hallway outside of the penthouse. Root had disappeared a few minutes earlier while they chased Hightower and his bodyguards from the tenth floor up to the penthouse. Shaw just looked behind herself and found Root gone.

“I got it,” Shaw answered and pivoted around the wall, keeping close the wall.

Suddenly, a streak of a person came up behind Shaw and grabbed her collar, pulling her back away from the open living room, into the kitchen. Shaw’s heel caught the front of Root’s foot and she fell backwards onto the floor. Minigun fire shot through the windows in the living room and over their heads as Root drove on top of Shaw.

“Hey Sweetie,” Root grinned, looking down at Shaw.

Shaw rolled her eyes and pushed Root off of herself onto the kitchen tile. Root laid down on the tile with her guns resting on her stomach. Shaw rolled onto her stomach and put her hands over her head as pieces of granite fell off of the kitchen counter onto her.

Root listened as the gun died down and the almost deafening helicopter motor noise. She peeked out over the kitchen island and saw the first assailant stepped into the living room. Root shot him twice in the chest and ducked back down, avoiding the bullets the people behind him started shooting at her.

Shaw sat up and put her back against the counter, “Where have you been?”

Root looked over at Shaw with a wicked smile. She didn’t answer. She scooted to the end of the island and peered around the corner squeezing off a few shots. Shaw popped up over the top and took out a few guys.

An opening past the kitchen led off toward the bedroom. Root looked down the hallway to make sure no one was coming and then shot at the people in the living room. She took a shot up at the chandelier and it fell on top of a few of the tactical team members.

Shaw used her bullets to herd a few of the operatives toward the gaping hole in the wall that the minigun on the helicopter made. A few well placed shots and they fell out on their own, pulling each other with them to try to stop their tumble toward doom.

Root opened the cabinet she had been leaning against and pulled out a kettle. She reached into the drawer over her head and pulled out a lighter. Shaw didn’t watch whatever Root was doing. She continued shooting over the top of the counter until Root lit whatever was inside the kettle and tossed it over the top of the counter.

“C’mon,” Root looked at Shaw. She jerked her head toward the hallway leading to the bedroom.

Shaw followed Root as a small explosion sounded behind them, followed by a thick cloud of white smoke.

Shaw whirled Root around and slammed her back up against the wall saving her from behind shot in the back. Shaw shot the last man with one arm pointing out the bedroom door, the other gripping Root’s shirt in her fist, keeping her against the wall.

“I love it when you play rough,” Root breathed out, watching Shaw’s sharp eyes flicker back to her. When she saw something in Shaw’s eyes akin to arousal, she exaggerated a deep breath that pressed their bodies together.

Shaw narrowed her eyes at Root, “Do you?”

Root’s breath caught in her throat. She swallowed hard and nodded slowly.

She watched Shaw toss her gun onto the bed and pushed herself into Root. She watched Root’s face. She wanted to know how Root was going to take it. She had been playing with fire for a while, but she wanted to know what Root would do when faced with an inferno.

Root seemed to lose her breath completely, but she held Shaw’s eyes, not backing down.

Shaw pushed up with force, her lips meeting Root’s like the collision of two stars staring an explosive supernova. Shaw’s lips weren’t on Root’s long. She kissed her eyes down Root’s neck, feeling the taller woman’s pulse beat swiftly against her lips. She placed both of her hands at the hem of Root’s shirt and pushed up until her hands were met with the soft material of Root’s bra. It was quickly pushed aside and a moan quaked through Root.

Root’s hands slipped into Shaw’s thick hair, her hands squeezing closed, tugging at Shaw’s hair whenever Shaw nipped at her neck.

Just as Root’s eyes fluttered closed, Shaw swung Root’s entire body around and pushed her onto the bed. She quickly unbuckled Root’s belt and yanked her pants and boots off all in one swift movement.

Root pulled Shaw’s tank top over her head and ran her hands up Shaw’s neck to guide her back down for a hungry kiss. Shaw crawled on top of Root and felt a slender thigh rise up between her legs, pressing hard against her. She gritted her teeth and pushed back against the leg while deepening the kiss.

Root started to slide her hands down Shaw’s back, her fingers teasing the border of Shaw’s pants when Shaw caught her wrists. Root laid her head on the bed when she felt Shaw moved her hands onto the bed above her head, pinning her in place. She searched Shaw’s face and knew she was playing a game.

Shaw looked into Root’s eyes and ground down hard against her. Root shuddered beneath her and rolled her hips up to join Shaw’s rhythm. Root couldn’t hold Shaw’s eyes anymore. Her eyes slipped close as Shaw pushed them both toward a mind erasing orgasm.

A half second later, Shaw found herself on her back. Root quickly rolled them over and picked up Shaw’s gun, squeezing two shots off toward the door. A man fell backwards out of the broken living room window. Root put the gun down and looked down for Shaw’s reaction.

Shaw smiled and put her hands on Root’s hips, pulling her down on her thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.”

Root grinned and felt Shaw’s hands move slowly, but purposefully up her body. Shaw reached behind Root and unhooked her bra, slowly bringing it forward off of Root’s check and around her wrist. With a short series of strokes with nimble fingers, Root’s wrists were bound together with her own bra. Root looked at her wrists and smiled fully, “I guess it was only a matter of time.”

Shaw held onto Root’s wrists with one hand while sliding her other hand between their bodies. She bypassed Root’s panties and slid a finger straight into her. Root gasped softly as Shaw pulled out an added another finger. Root bit her lip, her body trembling from the touch that she had craved for so long. She had to make a conscious effort to remember to keep stimulating Shaw as well. She pressed her thigh hard into Shaw, knowing that that was the only control she had right then. The action, pushed Shaw’s fingers deeper into her.

Root continued to move her hips and Shaw moved her fingers in and out of Root in the tight space between them. Shaw watched Root’s head tilt back as her breathing became ragged. Her lips parted and Shaw looked from Root’s lips to her jaw, ending at her neck.

Shaw let go of Root’s wrists and slid her hand up Root’s arms, across her shoulder, and to her neck. Shaw wrapped her fingers around Root’s neck and gently squeezed.

Root’s knee-jerk reaction was to grabbed the hand trying to cut off her oxygen, but when she looked down, she saw Shaw watching her. She knew she was safe. Root loosened her grip on Shaw’s wrist and felt the muscles in Shaw’s forearm flex as she squeezed tighter.

Shaw watched Root come completely undone above her, feeling Root pulse around her fingers. Small moans escaped her mouth and she felt Root lean into the hand on her neck.

Root slowed her grinding on Shaw and ran a hand through her hair.. She felt Shaw’s hand on her neck loosen slowly before moving away completely. Both of Shaw’s hands were on her hips, pulling her back into the rhythm they established.

Just before Shaw came, Root stopped completely, a wicked smile on her face. She unbuttoned and unzipped Shaw’s pants before dismounting her. Shaw groaned and rolled her eyes. She growled, “Root.”

Root pulled Shaw’s pants off in one yank, hands still bound, and moved down Shaw’s body. Shaw figured out what Root was doing and her body fell limp the second Root’s tongue tasted between her legs. Shaw’s hands dove into Root’s hair, guiding Root’s mouth where she wanted it and then holding tight to Root’s hair as Root pushed her over the edge not two minutes later.

Root fell onto the bed next to Shaw, exhausted. She hummed contently and smiled euphorically.

Shaw looked next to her at Root and knew that what they had just done was the start of something neither one of them would fully be able to understand.

Root sat up a second later and started using her teeth to untie her hands. It only took one tug to unravel the whole thing. She slid her bra back into place and hooked it behind her back.

Shaw started getting dressed as well, pulling her pants back up. “What’s going on?”

“I have to get on a helicopter to the airport,” Root explained with a smile. “This was fun though. We should do it again.”

Shaw could hear a helicopter approaching though the hole in the living room wall. She pulled on her shirt as Root pulled her boots on, “Was The Machine talking to you while we were having sex?”

Root grinned mischievously, “She’s always talking to me.”

Somehow that struck Shaw as weirder than the fact that they just had sex in the middle of a penthouse with a massive hold in the side of the living room, filled with dead operatives.

Root picked up her guns off of the floor and tucked them into the back of her pants, “I’ll be back in a few days. Say hi to Bear for me.” Root kissed Shaw unexpectedly and turned on her heel out the door.

Shaw followed, until Root walked over some bodies in the living room toward the window. The roar of the helicopter got louder. Root looked behind herself at Shaw and winked before jumping out the window.

The large machine moved straight up in the air and Shaw could see Root standing in the helicopter holding onto the door. She smiled at Shaw before the helicopter started moving away from the building.

Shaw just shook her head to herself and started making her way over the bodies to the stairs.


	11. Root and Moriarty

“That woman,” Joan looked down the street at a pair of women walking toward them. She had reluctantly agreed to have brunch with Jamie and only have there are been established ground rules. She narrowed her eyes, “She looks familiar.”

Jamie turned around and looked at the people on the sidewalk passing by. She was about to tell Joan that it was rude to not pay attention to her brunch date when a woman walking toward them stopped her cold.

The other woman stutter stepped when her eyes met Jamie’s. She slowed her walk. The woman with her stopped and looked from the brunette woman looking at a blonde sitting at the table.

“Hi Sweetie,” the brunette put on a smile, “Did you miss me?”

Joan looked over the woman’s face, trying to decide where she had seen her before. She was especially interested in someone who could render Jamie Moriarty motionless and speechless.

“We were together for three years, Jamie,” the woman teased, but it seemed her aloofness was forces, “Can’t I at least get a hello?”

The short woman with Jamie’s apparent ex looked up at her, “Three years?”

It clicked for Joan, “You have a painting of her in your gallery.”

“A painting?” the short woman’s attention turned to Jamie.

“I’m flattered that you kept it, Jamie,” the woman grinned wolfishly. She turned to Joan, “I’m Root.” She extended her hand to Joan.

“Joan,” she shook the hand offered to her. “You and Jamie used to date?”

“I don’t know if I would call it dating,” Jamie picked up her cup of tea and took a sip. She put it down and looked up at Root, “You look well.”

“I am. Thanks for noticing,” Root smiled. She picked up Jamie’s water on the table and took a sip.

“Still a contract killer?” Jamie looked up at Root with a forced stoicism.

Root could see right through it. “No. My interests have changed.” She looked next to her, “This is my associate, Sameen.”

“Associate?” Jamie studied Shaw and quirked an eyebrow. Shaw glared back at her, daring her to do something.

Root ignored the question, “Still sleeping with people to use their hacking skills?”

Jamie’s face softened, “You know it was never about that, Sam.”

Shaw knew Root well enough to know when she was hurt and trying to cover it up. She looked at Shaw, “What was it about?”

Jamie narrowed her eyes, “I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

Shaw took a step toward Jamie, but Root stopped her. “Sameen.”

Joan watched Shaw carefully, knowing that anyone who used to date and the people they were associated with were probably armed.

Root put the water down and looked to Joan, “Sorry to interrupt your brunch. It’s on me.”

Joan shook her head, “You don’t have to-”

Root ignored the statement and reached into her pocket. She dropped two hundred dollars on the table.

“We should have drinks sometime, Samantha,” Jamie leaned back in her chair as Root started to turn away.

“Mind if I come?” Joan interjected. When Root’s eyes flashed to Joan, Joan added, “You can never know too many hackers.”

“I’ll be there too,” Shaw added, sharing a glare with Jamie, “You never know when you need a thief.”

Jamie looked from Shaw to Root. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too,” Root nodded slowly. She smiled softly and touched Jamie’s shoulder. When Jamie smiled, she withdrew her hand. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Perhaps,” Jamie swallowed and watched Root turn and walk away. 


	12. Chapter 12

Shaw looked around the kitchen. She picked up a spatula and used it to pull the jar of spicy mustard toward her from a high self. However, she found that the shelf had a lip and pulling it would have probably sent it more tumbling onto her head than sliding into her hand.

“Why is everything so high in this apartment?” Shaw growled to herself. She looked back toward the living room and could see the head of the roommate sticking up from the couch. “Root!”

Root looked up from her computer and peered through the open floor plan to the kitchen. She put her laptop down on the couch and stood up. Shaw had been staying with her for a few days after being rescued from the clutches of a Descima interrogation room. She had multiple lacerations and bullet wounds that needed healing so Harold insisted that she stay with someone on the team. And since Shaw threated to cut off the balls of anyone that made her stay with them, Root volunteered. She would have volunteered anyway, but the balls thing just meant that it was uncontested.

“I just want a sandwich,” Shaw huffed.

Root smiled understandingly and walked to the pantry. She easily got down the spicy mustard and then moved to the refrigerator. “I’ll make it, sweetie.”

“No,” Shaw clenched her fist. “I want to do it myself. I just want to be able to reach things.” She limped over to the refrigerator and moved between Root and the fridge so she could get out the deli pastrami Root got for her earlier in the day.

Root took a step back and studied Shaw. At first it was cute that Shaw couldn’t reach things, but the more that Shaw stayed at the apartment, the more irritated and restless she got. Root knew she was feeling absolutely useless, especially after a late night number saved that left Shaw providing intel over the earpieces from the couch in the apartment.

Root let Shaw make her sandwich, but as soon as she left the kitchen she started rearranging everything in the kitchen. She pulled everything out of the pantry and put it on the counter. Then she took the things that Shaw didn’t like and never ate and put them on the top two shelves. Then she put Shaw’s favorite on the eyelevel shelf. Everything else was put where Shaw could reach it if she wanted it.

When Root turned around, she saw Shaw standing in the doorway of the kitchen watching her. She froze because she wasn’t sure how Shaw would see it. She wasn’t sure if it would be taken as a kind gesture or a pitying one. Because Shaw greeted pity with hostility.

When Shaw grabbed the front of Root’s shirt, she was sure she was about to get punched for making Shaw feel more helpless. That was before Shaw kissed her. It was a quick kiss, no more than a second, but when Shaw let go of her, Root smiled softly.

“Don’t smile,” Shaw ordered and turned around, hobbling back to the couch.

Root waited in the kitchen until she could control her smile. Then she walked to the couch as well. She picked up her laptop and sat back down on the couch in the middle of it. Shaw put her legs over Root’s lap and Root balanced her laptop on Shaw’s legs.

Shaw passed out for an after sandwich nap and Root finally got her chance to smile. It was strange – this life of near domesticity – but she loved it.


	13. Chapter 13

“He’s a wedding planner,” Shaw stood across the street from her number, “I don’t think I need backup.”

“He lives above his office,” Harold stated in her ear, “You need to at least get a look on the inside.”

Shaw looked down the street, “Then I’ll go in by myself.”

“You and I both know that you will not make a convincing bride to be on your own,” Harold replied, “And as Mr. Reese is busy with another number…”

“Please tell me you sent Lionel,” Shaw looked back toward the store and jumped when she saw someone was next to her. “Jesus Christ, I am going to shoot you one of these days.”

“I look forward to it,” Root grinned. She held up a diamond ring between them, “So did you propose or did I?”

Shaw took the ring and slipped it onto her left hand, “I certainly didn’t.”

Root opened the door of the wedding planning studio for Shaw who frowned at her when she walked in. A perk receptionist smiled at them, “Hello, you must be Sam and Kelly.”

“We are,” Root smiled at the receptionist and put her arm through Shaw’s, “Sorry we’re late. We were just looking at wedding dresses and I got carried away.”

“You always do,” Shaw faked a smile and patted Root’s hand on her arm.

The receptionist handed Root a tablet, “If you’ll just make a few preliminary choices, Raul will be with you in a moment.” She stood up and gestured for them to walk into a beautifully decorated reception area. There were pictures of venues and cake statues all along the wall.

They sat down on a white couch and Root disengaged from Shaw completely. She started tapping around on the tablet, “It’s not often that numbers just hand me access to all of their computers.” It only took her a few second to gain access to every computer in the building including Raul’s personal computer and all the business computers.

Shaw leaned over Root’s shoulder to see what she could see. “Uh oh, Raul is in debt up to his eyeballs.”

Root accessed his emails, “And it looks like someone if sending threatening emails wanting to collect on some off the books debt.”

The door opened a second later and a well-dressed man in a charcoal grey suit walked in. He smiled a perfect smile and ran a hand through his perfectly tousled hair. “I’m Raul.”

Root and Shaw stood up and shook his hand. Raul sat down in the chair facing the couch they were on and they sat down. Root ran her fingers quickly over the tablet erasing all evidence that she was doing something more than picking out flowers for her wedding.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” He unbuttoned his jacket and opened his hand to Root.

“We’re so glad you could fit us in,” Shaw smiled and made a show of putting her arm around Root.

Root leaned into Shaw enjoying herself a little too much. She turned to Shaw and kissed her cheek, “She’s always wanted a fall wedding and we couldn’t wait another year.”

“You two are a lovely couple,” Raul commented while looking through their wedding choices, “With very nice taste in colors.” He took a stylus out of his pocket, “Who is going to be in the wedding party? Family and bridesmaids specifically.”

Root looked at Shaw, “Um, unfortunately I don’t have parents, but I suppose we can fly in Sam’s mom.”

Shaw’s face suddenly got hard. She glared at Root, “Or we can leave my mother alone.”

Root took Shaw’s hand. Shaw resisted ripping it away because they had a cover to maintain. Root looked away from Shaw and forced a smile toward Raul, “Of course there’s our friends John, Lionel, and Harold. And Bear.”

“Bear’s an interesting name,” Raul commented, writing it all down on the tablet.

“He’s Sam’s best friend,” Root added.

“Bear is also Kelly’s brother,” Shaw threaded her fingers through Root’s, “They look so much alike you’d think they were twins.”

Root tilted her head and looked her Shaw, her eyebrows raised in a look that asked  _seriously?_

 Shaw dropped a peck on Root’s lips. She wasn’t sure why, but she could definitely write it off as their cover. But it was more likely that she was happy to finally one up the woman in front of her that she found annoying and sweet and sexy and irritating.

Raul’s phone chirped and he took it out of his breast pocket. His face turned white when he read whatever message was on it. He put down the tablet on the chair as he stood, “I, um, excuse me.”

When the door closed, Shaw looked at Root, “Looks like whoever it is wants to collect now.”

Root stood up and took the gun out of the back of her pants. She walked out the door for their planning room. The receptionist was gone and they could hear shouting in the back of the office.

Shaw led the way into the back of the office. She kicked in the door and found three men had cornered Raul. One of them had a knife and pointed it at Shaw. She almost laughed at the lame threat. She punched the man, cutting his cheek with her diamond ring, then easily disarmed him.

The other two reached for guns, but were dropped by Root who shot them in the kneecaps. Raul was trembling when he took his hands off of his ears.

“Sorry, Raul,” Root tucked her gun away, “I think we’re going to elope instead.”

When they were on the sidewalk, moving away from the studio, Root held out her hand, “Can I have my ring back?”

Shaw looked at the ring on her hand, “I don’t think so.”

Root quirked an eyebrow, “Why not?”

“I think it’ll come in handy,” Shaw put her hand in her pocket.

“Do you think it’ll come in handy in Vegas?” Root asked, bumping her shoulder with Shaw’s.

Shaw rolled her eyes, “You wish.”

Root grinned and peeled off from Shaw, walking in the opposite direction to rescue a new number on her own, “So do you, Sameen.”


	14. Chapter 14

“This is cozy, don’t you think?” Root asked Shaw. She wriggled a little trying to get more comfortable under the green blanket she was sharing with Shaw.

Shaw narrowed her eyes at Root and whispered back at Root, “This is not cozy. This is insane. This is jumping out of a plane in the middle of nowhere because the voice in your head told you to.” Shaw sat up a little straighter against the tree she was leaning on. She lifted the night vision goggles to her eyes and looked around them.

“She’s expanding our horizons,” Root looked around with a grin on her face, “The weather is nice.”

“It’s cold,” Shaw stated.

Root scooted closer to Shaw and put her arms around Shaw’s waist, “I can keep you warm.”

Shaw started to try and scoot away, but she knew that for survival – yeah survival, she was going to go with that – that she should just allow it. She wasn’t sure how she was going to justify putting her arm around Root’s shoulders while they kept their eyes on the drug dealers slowly loading a cargo truck full of cocaine into a chartered jet.

“Oh I almost forgot,” Root sat up and reached into the only bag they jumped out of the plane with. “I brought party favors.” She pulled out a long cylindrical piece of metal.

“New suppressors,” Shaw smiled and took it from Root, pulling out her gun so that she could screw it in.

“And…” Root pulled out a another long cylindrical thing covered in white paper.

Shaw sniffed, “Sandwich.” She took the sandwich and dropped her gun in her lap.

Root picked up the gun while Shaw devoured the sandwich. Root smiled watching Shaw eat the sandwich and watch the dealers. She finished screwing the suppressor into the gun and then cocked it. She kept her eyes on Shaw when she pointed the gun behind herself and pulled the trigger. A scout for the dealers dropped in the bushes.

Shaw looked over Root’s shoulder. “That’s was hot.”

Root grinned. “Finish, your sandwich Sameen. It’s getting colder.”


	15. Chapter 15

“What do we have, boys?” Shaw walked up to Reese and Fusco sitting at a cafe, having coffee.

“Thirty-two year old financier,” Reese opened the folder in front of himself and slid it to Shaw as she sat down.

Shaw looked over the woman's face and looked at the rest of the file, “Where is she?”

“She works from her penthouse,” Finch popped into her ear. Shaw found pictures of the penthouse in the file.

“If I had a place like that, I wouldn’t leave either,” Fusco commented.

Shaw looked at a map of the location, “It's high and isolated. We're going to need better eyes on it.”

“I'm afraid you'll have to provide your own today, Ms. Shaw. Bear chewed up the last remaining pair of binoculars the last time you and Mr. Reese went on a weekend trip,” Finch explained.

Shaw smiled a little and saw the same look on Reese's face, “He missed us while we were blowing up barns.”

“You blew up what?” Harold asked.

Shaw tapped her earpiece so she didn't have to explain th e number of barns that fell last time they were in farm country. She waited a moment before tapping it again. She heard the expected, “Hey, Sweetie,” a second later.

“Where are you at?” Shaw asked, then ordered a coffee and a scone.

“I haven't left yet,” Root answered, “Slow morning. What do you need?”

“Can you check the hall closet for my binoculars?” Shaw asked.

“Hold on,” Root put down her coffee in the kitchen and moved toward the hallway the led to the bedrooms. She stopped in front of the closet and opened the door. Root hummed while she looked through the meticulously curated shelves. Ammo was sorted by caliber, guns were sorted by manufacturer. The top two shelves were Root's while the rest of it was Shaw's. The top shelf was mostly hard drives and replacement computer parts. The second shelf down had a taser charging rack and a rack of handguns.

“Ah, here it is,” Root paused and picked up another bag, “Nightvision or spotting scope…or this one that looks like you got it from a cereal box?”

“Spotting scope,” Shaw stated, “Can you meet us in Central Park with it?”

“Yeah,” Root looked down at her clothes. She hadn't gotten dressed yet. She was still in a black tank top that she wasn't one hundred percent sure was hers and her underwear, “Let me find some pants.”

“I washed all of your clothes because whatever you got into last week smelled like an ashtray that was in a dumpster,” Shaw grumbled as her coffee and pastry was set in front of her. She took a large bite of the scone and finally saw the two men at the table looking incredulously at her, “What?'

“I'll be there in ten,” Root answered before hanging up.

“Who is she talking to?” Fusco leaned over and whispered to Reese. Reese shrugged and the watched Shaw devour a scone.

They made their way to the park and when they got there, Root was sitting on a bench with a book in her hand. She looked relaxed to the normal person, but Shaw and Reese could tell that she was watching someone. Fusco was just shocked the Root was the one they were meeting in the park.

“You got a number too?” Reese asked as he approached.

Root looked up. She adjusted her glasses and stood, “No. Just wondering if those people would eat those hot dogs if they knew what was in them. And what Benedict the hot dog vendor dropped in the hot dog water this morning.”

“You're a lot a fun, you know that?” Fusco told her.

Root smiled and took the scope out of her pocket. She handed it over to Shaw without another word. Root gave Reese a smile. She patted Fusco's shoulder as she walked off, “Have fun, kids.”

“Hold on,” Fusco said as Shaw was about to start walking in the opposite direction, “You live with Looney Toons?”

“No,” Shaw made a disgusted face.

“She lives with you?” Reese asked.

Shaw frowned, “No.”

“But you did her laundry and she brought you your,” Fusco made a gesture close to his eye trying to indicate Shaw's scope. “Thing.”

Shaw huffed, “Samaritan trashed my old apartment. I needed somewhere to store my stuff.”

“Where do you sleep?” Fusco asked.

Reese added, getting immense amusement from the conversation they were having. “More importantly, what pillow do you hide your favorite gun under while you sleep?”

Shaw stopped cold in the middle of the sidewalk, “Holy shit. I live with Root.”

“No shit,” Fusco started their walk down the sidewalk again, “When did that happen?”

“I don't know,” Shaw answered honestly. “I just… It happened… on accident.” She looked at Reese. He seemed to believe her. Mostly because he didn't believe she would ever willingly move in with anyone unless she was unaware that it was happening.

Shaw thought it over. It started with needing somewhere to store her things. Then she started sleeping on the couch. Her clothes moved into Root's closet and Shaw started sleeping in the bed while Root was out at night. Then she became attached to the ridiculously comfy bed that she would make sure to get in first and then Root would follow, keeping a respectful DMZ between them in the night.

Shaw liked living with Root. The apartment was always tidy and there was always gourmet coffee and food. Root knew when Shaw didn't want to be talked to and never did anything that made Shaw uncomfortable. The bathroom medicine cabinet was half Root's and half Shaw's. Root got the top half of the cabinet for obvious reasons.

Shaw tapped her earpiece, “Root.”

There was a soft grunt on the phone and Root answered, “Hold on a sec. I have to get this guy down the stairs.” There was a quick gasp from Root and a series of thuds. “Whoops.” She started walking down after the body, “What's up?”

“We live together,” Shaw stated.

Root stopped on the stairs for a beat and then continued. The realization had just dawned on her as well, “Huh.”

“This wasn't part of your master plan?” Shaw asked, slowing her walk so that she could talk to Root without Reese and Fusco listening. They walked ahead, giving her the privacy she was trying to get lest they lose their kneecaps.

Root grabbed onto a booted foot and finished pulling the unconscious man down the stairs, “Honestly? No. I didn't even think about it until right now.”

It was Shaw's turn to grunt in thought.

Root stopped in the middle of the basement she was in and looked around. She found an extension cord in the corner, “Do you want me to move out?”

“No,” Shaw answered softly. It was a lifestyle that they had both grown comfortable in. There was no reason not to continue on. “It's fine. There's no reason for anyone to move.”

“Good,” Root started tying up the man with the extension cords, “Since we're both self-aware now, can you pick up some french bread on the way home?” Root tied off the extension cord and stood up, “I'm going to make bruschetta. And maybe a steak au poivre or maybe a chicken francese. I haven't decided yet.”

“Are you about to torture someone and you're planning dinner?” Shaw asked.

“If I don't plan it when I'm torturing people, when am I going to have time to do it?” Root asked with a smile.

“Root,” Shaw quickly stopped her from hanging up.

“Yeah?” Root asked, as the man she tied was up starting to wake up.

Shaw made sure that Reese and Fusco couldn't hear her when she added, “Make the steak au poivre.”

“Only if you bring a bottle of wine,” Root replied.

“Deal.”

“See you at home, Shaw.” Root hung up just as the man screamed awake.

Shaw glowered on the sidewalk when she saw Fusco and Reese waiting for her at the corner.

“How's the wife?” Fusco asked.

Shaw glared hard at him, “I will shoot you. And not in the kneecap.”

Reese smiled when Shaw walked past him and saw Fusco shaking his head in amusement. Shaw walked into their number's building and ignored the men around them. The joke was on them. She was going to get steak and bruschetta for dinner after she stole a really expensive bottle of wine from the penthouse they were about to break into.


	16. Chapter 16

Shaw was walking home when she saw someone starting to follow her. She made a few unnecessary turns and knew she was being followed. She stepped into an alley and when her follower stepped in after her, he was met with a gun to his head.

“Whoa, whoa, Sameen,” Tomas put his hands up in the air.

Shaw put her gun down, “Tomas?”

He smiled, “I saw you walking by my hotel. I couldn’t resist saying hi.” He put his hands in his pockets. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” Shaw grinned, “You got a job lined up? Need a wheel-man?”

“Perhaps,” a twinkle in Tomas’s eyes was gleeful when he looked at Shaw. “Would you like to come to my hotel room and have a drink?”

“I actually have to let my dog out,” Shaw gestured to the street, “But we can have a drink there.”

Tomas gladly agreed. He told her about Barcelona and the jobs that he had done while in Europe as they walked. Shaw unlocked the door and let Tomas walk in first.

The apartment door opened up to a large open living room space. There was a woman already in the apartment. She was wearing glasses and typing on her computer laying comfortably on the couch. She looked up when the door opened. Her eyes studied the people that were walking in. Bear was laying at Root’s feet and jumped up when he saw Shaw.

Root stood up. She smiled politely, “Hey Tomas.”

“Hello?” he asked, wondering if he’d ever met her.

Root slid her boots on and closed her laptop. She slipped it into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’ll take Bear on his walk so you two can catch up.”’

Shaw watched Root pick up Bear’s leash. “I can take him.”

“I got it,” Root’s smile was pained, but almost convincing. She picked up her coat and pulled it on. She asked Bear if he wanted to go for a walk. He sat by the front door and waited for his leash to get hooked on. “I just came to return the – thing I borrowed. It’s on the kitchen table.”

“Thanks,” Shaw watched Root and Bear leave. She took off her coat and laid it on the couch. She turned to Tomas, “Whiskey?”

“Yes,” he nodded and took off his coat as well.

Shaw walked into the kitchen to get the alcohol. She stopped at the kitchen table. The  _thing_  Root borrowed was a sniper rifle. Shaw popped open the hard case and saw that the rifle was in the same condition she lent it to Root in. Next to the gun was a white paper bag. Shaw peeked in the bag and saw takeout boxes. She extracted a box and opened it. The Thai food inside was still warm.

Shaw grabbed some chopsticks out of the bag and set it on top of the cardboard box. She got down two glasses, a bottle of whiskey, then picked up the food on her way to the living room. She sat down on the couch. “What’s the mark?”

“Hotel Cristavo,” he stated, watching Shaw pour his whiskey.

“Swanky,” Shaw poured her own and picked up her glass, “Hotel vault?”

“There will be a rare jewelry showcase moving through town,” Tomas nodded and accepted his whiskey.

Shaw leaned back on the couch and opened her food, “I would offer you some, but you already ate.” He looked momentarily confused, “You’re saving some for later on your shirt.”

He looked down and found a tiny spot of his dinner left on his shirt. He smiled, “How embarrassing.”

Shaw shrugged and started eating.

“Do you mind if I put some club soda on this?” he asked.

She pointed to the kitchen with her chopsticks. “In the cabinet next to the stove.” Tomas started unbuttoning his shirt on the way to the kitchen.

Shaw continued eating on the couch until Tomas came back in his undershirt. “I hung it up in the bathroom. I hope you don’t mind.”

Again, Shaw didn’t mind in the least. “When are you going to hit it?”

“Two days from today,” Tomas answered, moving a little closer to Shaw. He took out his phone and tapped around. “Here are the blueprints from the lobby and vault.” He handed it to Shaw.

She put down the takeout box and moved the blueprints around on the phone to get a better look at it. Tomas moved onto the cushion next to Shaw and put his arm on the back of the couch behind her. He pointed at the screen, “You will enter the vault the day before the jewels are set to arrive to drop off some of your person jewelry. Then you’ll pick it up the next day when our targets are being dropped off. We’ll pick you up and head out the back door.”

Shaw nodded. “What about the security guard at the back door?”

“We’ll figure that out,” Tomas offered with a smile.

“I got it,” Shaw reached into the couch behind herself and pulled out a taser. She tested it in front of Tomas and set it on the coffee table.

Tomas looked questioningly at her, “I didn’t peg you at a taser person.”

“I’m not,” Shaw turned toward Tomas. She could see him coming in for some kind of intimate contact. She put her hand on his chest, “Hey buddy. I’m all for helping you rob hotels and museums or whatever, but I’m kinda….seeing someone.”

He tilted his head, “I figured someone like yourself would settle down so quickly.”

“I wouldn’t call it settling down,” Shaw picked up her whiskey. “But I…. I told her we could try and so far it’s…. it’s nice.”

“But is it exciting?” Tomas asked, looking Shaw over.

Shaw grinned, “If Root is anything, she is exciting. Never a dull moment.”

Tomas nodded slowly. He moved away from Shaw a little and picked up his whiskey. “To excitement.”

“Four alarm fires,” Shaw tapped her glass to Tomas’s and they both drank.

They continued going over the plan for robbing the hotel until the front door opened. Bear led the way in, pulling Root into the room.

“He was very adamant about coming home as soon as possible,” Root explained, letting go of his leash.

Bear ran for Shaw and jumped up on the couch between Shaw and Tomas. He nosed his head under Shaw’s hand. She smiled and started petting him. “Hey Bear.”

Tomas stood up and quickly walked toward the bathroom. He returned with his shirt hanging open on his shoulders as Root was hanging up Bear’s leash. Root was about to slip back out the door when Tomas called her.

She looked back at him, wondering how he knew her name. He smiled gently as he walked toward her. She was standing in the open doorway so he gently moved her back into the apartment. He kissed her cheek, “Nice to meet you, Root.” Then he looked at Shaw, “I’ll get you a room and….I’m sure you can figure out how to contact me.”

Shaw nodded and picked up the carton of food to finish eating it. She gave him a wave as she walked out and closed Root in the apartment.

“Your food is still in the kitchen,” Shaw told Root, watching the other woman standing near the door.

Root started walking toward the kitchen when Shaw stood up, grabbing her by the front of the shirt and pulled her into a kiss. Root hummed when Shaw broke the kiss. “Mmm, pad Thai.”

Root didn’t wait for an explanation or any kind of additional affection. She walked into the kitchen to get her dinner and sit on the couch with Shaw and Bear.

“Did you shoot anyone with my sniper rifle?” Shaw asked.

Root smiled mischievously, “Maybe.”

“How many?” Shaw asked.

“Seven,” Root opened her foot and broke apart her chopsticks, “Militia group in Andorra.”

“Any to center mass?” Shaw hopefully leaned forward.

Root nodded, “I’m not wasting a gun like that on kneecaps. It would have just severed the leg below the knee and they would have just bled out anyway.”

Shaw smiled fully and finished off her food. She laid down on the couch, her feet slipping between Root and the couch. Root moved toward the front of the couch and turned sideways so that her legs ran the length of the couch as well. Bear stepped around their legs until he decided that there wasn’t enough room on the couch. He hopped down and moved to his bed in the corner.

“Are you thieving with Tomas later?” Root asked, moving around her food.

Shaw nodded, “We’re stealing some jewelry from a hotel vault.”

“Sounds fun,” Root took a small bite of her food, chewing thoughtfully.

“You want in?” Shaw asked, picking up the taser on the coffee table. She tested it in her hand, “We need a taser operator. You’re the best in the business.”

Root smiled, “Really, Sameen?”

Shaw nodded, “There’s a guard at the back door in the middle of our exit route. I mean I’m sure there’s some computer stuff that you can do too. You can steal some credit card numbers for fun while you’re waiting if you want.”

Root put her food down and smiled appreciatively at Shaw. “I’m going to go home.”

Shaw shook her head, “No you’re not.”

“I’m not?” Root quirked an eyebrow.

Shaw sat up on the couch and moved to her knees, placing her hands on either side of Root. She dipped her head down and kissed the side of Root’s neck, “We have some plans to go over.”

“What kind of plans?” Root closed her eyes and leaned back on the couch, laying her head on the arm of the couch.

Shaw moved her lips to the other side of Root’s neck, “I don’t know yet.” She slipped her hand under Root’s shirt and teased the skin on her stomach, “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”


	17. Chapter 17

“I can’t believe in all these years, we’ve never had to hit up a strip club,” Fusco commented, sitting in a red velvet booth and watching everyone in the club. He drank his club soda slowly.

Reese was sitting at the bar, watching the club in the mirror behind the bar. He could see Shaw sitting close to the main stage, eating a steak.

“I can’t believe you’re eating here Shaw,” Reese swirled around his bourbon and took a sip.

“I’ve had some of the best steaks in strip clubs,” Shaw answered with a mouthful. She looked around, “Anyone seen Root?”

“She went to go talk to some girls,” Reese answered, looking around the room at all the people sitting in the shadows that could be their perp.

Fusco stopped cold. He looked at the stage, “I think I found her.”

“Where?” Shaw looked around, gnawing on a piece of steak.

“On stage, Shaw,” Reese answered with an amused, although not entirely surprised smirk.

Shaw nearly choked when she saw Root swing effortlessly around a pole before bending over to show off her cheeky red lingerie.

“Holy moly,” Fusco breathed. “This is weird.”

Shaw clenched her jaw to keep her mouth from dropping open. Root moved toward her and rolled her body back against a pole, catching Shaw’s eyes. She used her eyes to point Shaw toward the curtain next to the stage where the dancers were disappearing with wealthy patrons who could afford to go behind the curtain for a private show.

Shaw reached into her pocket and stood from her chair. She finished off her whiskey and moved to the curtain. She used the money in her hand to point to Root and then back to the curtain, making sure that the bouncers guarding the curtain saw her.

Root descended the stage and smiled at the bouncer who held back the curtain for them. Root found an empty room and pressed a button on the wall that dimmed the lights and turned on music.

The bass rumbled through the room as Shaw sat down on a U-shaped couch on one end of the room. There was a pole in the middle of the U where Root immediately started dancing. She moved to the couch and started giving Shaw the lap dance she was going to pay for.

Root straddled Shaw’s lap and put her hands on the couch behind her. She rolled her body toward Shaw’s and then dipped her head down to whisper in her head, “This whole club is bugged. There are cameras everywhere.” She threw her hair back and leaned back, putting on a smile, “My name is Monica.”

Shaw remembered in her hazy lap dance addled mind that their number’s name was Monica and she was a stripper. Root moved back over Shaw, looking down at her. Their faces were a breath apart when Root said, “Monica matches the type for a serial kidnapper that has been abducting strippers in the area. So do I.”

“I heard about that guy,” Fusco’s voice rang in both of their ears. Apparently Root had been broadcasting their conversation to the whole team. Not that she was much of a conversationalist at the moment. She held on hard to the cushions next to herself as Root leaned back again, holding Shaw’s eyes with a smoldering gaze that couldn’t be entirely acting.

Shaw’s phone buzzed in her pocket and Fusco announced that he sent everyone a picture of the guy that NYPD was also keeping track of.

Root slipped her fingers into Shaw’s pocket and slowly pulled out Shaw’s phone, checking it behind Shaw’s head. “I saw that guy. He’s sitting at a table in the back.”

“I see him,” Reese stated. “I’m going to go have a chat with him.”

“Looks like we caught him,” Root looked at Shaw, grinding down hard on Shaw’s lap. She slipped the phone back into Shaw’s pocket. She kept moving her body over Shaw, rolling her hips into Shaw.

Shaw tapped her earpiece and took it out of her ear, placing it in her pocket. Then she moved her hands to Root’s outer knees, pressing hard into Root’s skin, wanting to make sure that Root could feel her. She pushed them slowly up Root’s thighs, watching Root’s chest expand with a sharp breath.

Just as her fingers were starting to graze the bottom of Root’s red, lacy panties, Root caught Shaw’s wrists. She moved them up over Shaw’s head, pinning her to the high back of the couch behind her. Root dipped her head down. Her lips brushed Shaw’s ear when she said, “No touching.”

Shaw smirked, knowing the game the were going to play. “Okay. Rules are rules.” She put her hands behind her head and leaned back.

Root smiled, moving her lips to Shaw’s. She paused in place, waiting to see what Shaw would do. Shaw moved closer to Root, almost daring her into a kiss. Root started moving in and then detoured her mouth before it touched Shaw’s. She kissed the underside of Shaw’s jaw, nipping at the hot skin.

Shaw closed her eyes to take in all the sensations around her.

A sudden bang startled her out of her stimulated state. When she opened her eyes, she saw Root standing up completely, the gun Shaw kept in the back of her pants in her hand, pointing at the door.

The perp was standing there with his hands up. Reese ran in behind him, but slowed to a stop when he saw Root had control of the situation. Reese turned to the door and Fusco ran in with his handcuffs in hand. He handcuffed the perp and drug him out the door.

Reese looked at Shaw who was still sitting on the couch. “We lost communications with you two.”

Root lowered the gun and clicked the safety on. She smirked, “There’s no cell signal in here.”

Reese started to reach into his phone to check when a glare from Shaw made stop. He tried to squash a smile when he turned to the door. “We should probably get out of here. Security is starting to look around.”

Shaw stood up and started walking toward the door. When John turned around to leave, she snatched Root’s wrist that had her gun in it, pulling it behind her own back so that Root had to move close to her. She whispered in Root’s ear, “Don’t think for a second that we’re finished.”

Root moved her free hand behind Shaw’s back to pry Shaw’s hand off of her wrist. She smiled coyly and tucked Shaw’s gun back where she got it from with the front of her body pressed against Shaw’s. She whispered, “I’ll make sure that you aren’t even able to stand when we’re finished.”

Once again, Shaw was shocked into speechlessness. Root grinned and took a step away from Shaw, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find my clothes.” Root walked out of the room, turning the music off as she left.


	18. Chapter 18

After they landed at the airport, they drove into town under the direction of The Machine and ended up in a club in West Hollywood. The lights inside were dim and the music was loud. Root had to lean close to Shaw to tell her that their number was one of the bartenders.

They headed to the bar and Root flagged down the bartender whose number came up. Root smiled when the bartender walked over to her. “Can I get a-” Root stopped and pointed, “Your tattoo. It’s beautiful.”

The bartender looked down at her inner forearm. The bartender grinned, “Thanks. It was a drunken tattoo that I don’t regret.”

“Does it mean anything?” Root looked at the colorful feather spanning the woman’s arm.

“I was in Mexico,” the bartender tucked some shoulder-length black hair behind her ear, “I think the only thing I could say in Spanish was bird and about five colors.” The bartender rolled her eyes at herself, “I was in a resort so the tattoo artist spoke English so I could have just said winter tree like I wanted.”

Root laughed. “Since you have such great taste in tattoos, I’ll just have whatever you like to drink here.”

“Coming up,” the bartender smiled at Root. She grabbed a few bottles and mixed a drink. When she set it in front of Root, another bartender walked over to her and whispered in her ear. The bartender’s face fell.

“Something wrong?” Root asked.

“Our guest DJ just called and canceled,” the bartender gestured to the DJ booth above the dance floor.

Root looked to see if Shaw was listening. She was leaning back on the bar next to her and had heard the whole thing. Root ducked her head and commented quietly, “DJ booth would be a good place to keep an eye on things.”

Shaw nodded, “You know how to DJ?”

Root caught the bartender’s eyes. When the bartender slowed down, Root informed her, “My friend here is actually a DJ. She mostly did work in Germany, but since she’s in the states she’s been taking a break, but I bet I could talk her into working again.”

Shaw’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed at Root.

“Oh really?” the bartender asked, “Could you? The last DJ got drunk and left his gear here.”

Shaw put on a smile. “It’s been a while, but yeah sure.” Shaw glared at Root as she was lead up to the DJ booth. She smiled when Shaw put on the headphones. It only took a second for Shaw to get into the groove of things. Then DJ Shaw started throwing music music into the mix.

Root picked up her drink and took a sip. The bartender stopped in front of Root, “Thank you so much. Your friend is really saving my ass.”

“No problem,” Root shrugged, “I can tell she misses it sometimes.”

The bartender leaned on the bar in front of Root, “I’m Kate.”

“Root,” Root smiled. She looked at the people starting to walk to the dance floor because of Shaw’s music, “Do you have a break soon?”

The bartender nodded, “I’ll take one now.” She hopped over the bar and offered her hand to Root, “Shall we?”

The bartender wasted no time in moving close to Root. Root put her hands on the bartender’s shoulders and slid closer to her. Root closed her eyes. She had missed the feeling of a warm body against her own. She hadn’t been dancing in ages and her last human contact that wasn’t shoving someone into a corner during a firefight was even longer ago.

The bartender smiled and asked into Root’s ear, “You don’t like this song?”

Root smiled back, “I haven’t been dancing in a while.”

“Could have fooled me,” the bartender answered with a coy smirk.

“I know we’re here to protect her, but do you really need to be using yourself as a human shield already?” Shaw asked in Root’s ear.

Root looked up at the DJ booth, but didn’t say anything in reply. Kate put her hands on Root’s hips and pulled them together, her hands sliding low on Root’s back.

If Root was honest, she missed this kind of contact. She missed someone holding her and knowing that they found her attractive. She closed her eyes and let the feeling surround her.

Shaw kept her eyes drifting around the perimeter, but they kept coming back to Root and the bartender. She narrowed her eyes. The volume was turned down on her emotions, but anger was easily accessible and she could feel it all over her.

But she did manage to spot a few people that looked out of place, “Root, we got two suits walking around the dance floor looking at our number.”

Root looked around and spotted one of them. She leaned close to Kate and whispered in her ear, “Is there a… more private place we can go?”

“I have to go back behind the bar in fifteen minutes,” Kate answered.

Root smirked and caught her eyes, “I’m sure we won’t need all fifteen minutes. I’m very talented.”

A smile grew on Kate’s face and she took Root’s hand, pulling her away from the bar. Shaw started a new song and watched the dance floor carefully, “They’re following you Root.”

Root moved closer to Kate and put her hands on Kate’s waist, urging her faster. They slipped through a door marked employees only that led to a long, narrow hallway.

Kate stopped in the middle of the hallway and moved Root’s back against the wall. Just as Kate was moving in for a kiss, the door burst open behind her.

Two men walked in – the ones in suits – and they both reached for their guns under their jackets.

There was the soft pfft of two shots being fired out of a silenced gun. The men collapsed and Shaw stood behind them with her gun out.

Shaw looked at Kate, “I don’t know who you are or who you pissed off but you’ve gotta get out of town.”

Kate took a step away from Root, “Who are you people?”

“Shaw’s right,” Root told Kate gently, “You need to leave. Go somewhere safe.”

Kate nodded slowly. She looked at Root and surprised everyone in the hallway by kissing her. She smiled when she fell back on her heels, “Thanks for the dance.”

Kate turned and walked down the hallway and out the back door.

“That was a first,” Root watched her walk away.

Shaw walked straight up to Root and pulled her down into a kiss. She pushed Root hard against the wall. She deepened the kiss, making sure to cover up whatever Kate left behind.

When Shaw pulled away, Root leaned back on the wall, stunned. She looked at Shaw trying to decipher what the hell was going on. Shaw just clenched her jaw and looked away, “We should get out of here.” She started walked back toward the club, stepping over the moaning men on the floor.

Root smiled and pushed off the wall, “Today is full of firsts.”


	19. Chapter 19

“I thought that point of boarding school was that the kids never come home,” Shaw quietly told Root. They were standing in the doorway from the kitchen to the living room in Root’s apartment, watching Gen work on an assignment for school.

“They’re fumigating the dorms,” Root answered, her arms crossed. “Everyone who could come home, had to and since her home address on her forms was New York, she had to leave.”

Shaw leaned on the door frame, “Well what do we do?”

“I don’t know,” Root looked at Shaw, “She’s  _your_  spy buddy.”

“Hey,” Shaw looked back at Root, “You were the one that went undercover as a nanny.”

“I was also pretending to be French,” Root shook her head. She sighed softly and looked at Gen typing furiously on the laptop, “I didn’t know how to handle kids when I was a kid.”

Shaw whispered back, “Fusco has a kid. Why didn’t he get babysitting duty?”

“Gen trusts you,” Root stated the reason that Harold gave her. “And I had the least booby trapped apartment with a spare bedroom. It’s just for a couple days right? Not so bad.”

Shaw agreed. Gen was pretty cool for a kid.

Gen finished her assignment and then looked up at the women, “I’m kinda hungry. Can get eat?”

“What do you want?” Shaw asked.

Gen thought for a moment, “Is there a steakhouse around here?”

“She’s a mini-you,” Root touched Shaw’s shoulder as she started walking toward the bedroom, “I’ll get my purse.”

At the steakhouse, Root force paired her phone with almost everyone around them to keep from trying to figure out something to say. Shaw struggled through asking Gen how school was going.

“I like it,” Gen smiled. “Everyone is so smart and there’s another boy there that speaks Russian. His parents are ambassadors.” Gen took another piece of bread and tore off a piece.

“You’re making friends?” Shaw asked.

Gen nodded. “There’s one girl that’s mean to me, but I tapped her room and found out that her parents are getting a divorce so I let it slide a little.”

“Next time she’s mean to you,” Shaw leaned forward and put her hand on Gen’s shoulder close to her neck, “Pinch right here as hard as you can and she’ll-”

“Violence is cause for expulsion at my school,” Gen answered with an amused smile at Shaw.

Shaw sat back in her chair and picked up her beer, “If you do it right, no one knows you did it.”

“I bet you were fun in school,” Root finally joined the conversation.

“I bet you weren’t,” Shaw quipped, “What did you do? Skip class to hack the computers in the library?”

That shut Root up. She sat up indignantly and turned back to her phone.

“You’re a hacker?” Gen asked across the table.

Root didn’t move her head from it’s bowed position looking at her phone, but her eyes moved to the child, “Among other things.”

“That’s cool,” Gen offered, taking a bite of her bread. “Do you only hack bad guys?”

“Do you only bug mean girls’ dorms?” Root finally moved her head up to look at Gen more easily.

Gen held Root’s gaze and studied her for a moment. She let out a grin and looked at her bread.

Root frowned, but wasn’t going to argue with a child or ask her what she was smiling about. The food came as a nice reprieve, but the silence was still unnerving Shaw.

“Root has an artificial super intelligence in her ear at all times,” Shaw added quietly.

“You do?” Gen lit up and looked at Root.

Root’s eyes widened at Shaw, “Sameen!”

“I ran out of things to talk about,” Shaw cut into her steak, trying weakly to defend herself.

“That doesn’t mean you tell her about The Machine,” Root scolded Shaw and then looked at Gen, “You can’t tell anyone.”

“Who would believe me?” Gen asked, leaning forward, “Can you ask it anything and it tells you?”

“If She wants to,” Root answered.

Dinner went by easily after that. Root used a stolen criminal’s credit card to pay for dinner. Gen asked her about it and Root looked at Shaw, pleading to be relieved from the endless questions.

“Root steals everything,” Shaw explained for her.

Root huffed, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you feel bad?” Gen asked Root as they walked back to her apartment.

“No,” Root stated and looked at the nearest security camera, “Please give me a number.” After a moment, she sighed heavily, “John gets to do all the fun things.”

“Are you like Shaw with your feelings turned down?” Gen asked Root.

Root looked down at the little girl, “Do you want a Playstation?”

Gen nodded, “Yes.”

“I’m going to buy it with a stolen credit card,” Root added, “Do you still want it?”

“Root,” Shaw moved herself between Root and Gen. “I’ll buy you one with my money. That I get from my job.”

Root grumbled about being the only one not on Harold’s payroll and followed Shaw and Gen into an electronics store. She went to the computer section, leaving Shaw and Gen to pick out a game system.

Gen was easy to buy for and after they picked out what she wanted, they found Root arguing with a clerk about the specifications of a motherboard she was looking at.

“Look at that,” Root pointed to the motherboard between them. “That heat sink is attached with thermal tape. For the kind of processor it would take to run this, the heat sink will fall off and the whole thing will fry itself in three minutes.”

“Look, I’m sure you learned a lot about computers in your community center class or whatever,” the man huffed condescendingly.

Shaw saw Root start to reach behind herself. She quickly ran over to Root and grabbed her wrist, keeping the gun in the back of Root’s pants. “Not in the middle of the store.”

Root glared at the man before letting go of her gun. “Fine,” she growled at Shaw and Shaw let her go.

They bought what they came for and when they got back to the apartment, Root hooked everything up quickly before disappearing into her bedroom.

Shaw and Gen played video games, looking a few hours. Shaw got frustrated with the unrealisticness of the game, but excelled at tactical formations that quickly took out large amounts of enemies.

Root made cookies as a piece offering and then set them in front of the gamers in her living room. She grabbed her computer and sat down on the loveseat perpendicular to the couch Shaw and Gen were on.

Once a mission was over and Shaw got a second between games, she stood up, “I’m going to get a beer. Root? Beer?”

Gen laughed, “Root beer.”

Root rolled her eyes and looked over at Shaw, “There’s a bottle of bourbon on top of the refrigerator.”

Shaw nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

Gen looked over at Root, “Shaw likes you.”

“We’re friends. We work together,” Root didn’t look away from the computer, “If she didn’t tolerate me, I’d be dead.”

“No,” Gen paused the game before the mission started without Shaw, “She likes you, likes you.”

Root snorted. “Yeah, okay kid.”

“Why the hell is everything in here so high!” Shaw called from the kitchen.

Root smiled to herself and looked over at Gen who was giggling. They shared a smile until Shaw walked back in with two tumblers of bourbon. She handed one to Root who thanked her and took a sip before resuming what she was doing on her computer.

Around midnight, Gen told Shaw she was tired. Root walked Gen to her room. She made sure that Gen had enough blankets and asked her if she needed anything.

“Shaw has feelings,” Gen told Root before Root walked out, “The volume is just turned down.”

Root stopped in the doorway, “Yeah.” She looked over her shoulder at Gen, “I know.”

“You listen though,” Gen looked at Root from the dark of her room.

Root smiled sadly, “She’s my favorite song.”

“Goodnight, Root,” Gen softly told the hacker.

Root leaned on the doorframe, “Goodnight, Gen.”

When Root walked into the living room, she found Shaw still playing the video games. “This game is bullshit. I shot the guy in the kneecap and he’s still running around.”

“You’re fighting aliens, Sam,” Root picked up her laptop and sat down on the loveseat again.

“Aliens have weaknesses too,” Shaw answered, leaning forward.

Root grinned and settled deep into the couch. When Shaw died, she got up and asked Root if she wanted a refill on her bourbon. Root handed over her glass and Shaw went to the kitchen to fill it up. She laid her head back on the arm of the loveseat and watched Shaw walk into the kitchen. She knew Gen was right about Shaw. But Root knew that she couldn’t force the volume up. However, she was content to carefully listen to her favorite song while it cursed in her kitchen about how high all the shelves were.


	20. Chapter 20

Root was sitting at the computer inside the house that she and Shaw broke into. She opened the email client and started flipping through the emails of their number.

“This is weird,” Shaw walked around the living room, “All of this stuff is brand new. I don't even think anyone has ever sat on this couch.”

Root scanned the email, “It is brand new. All of the receipts are here. Paid for with a credit card, all ordered online.”

“She has good taste,” Shaw moved to the kitchen and looked in the cupboards, “All of this stuff looks brand new too. No dirty dishes.”

“Dear John,” Root started reading an email, “I understand that you may want an explanation for my sudden departure. I assure you it was nothing you that did. I need to figure out who I am on my own.”

“Gross,” Shaw moved to the bedroom. “I can smell the mattress. It's new too. Our girl must be really going through a complete cleanse.”

“She's meeting John at a five star restaurant to talk about the end of their relationship tonight,” Root called to Shaw. “I'm going to hack into the restaurant reservation database and get us a table close by. Sorry Mr. Ambassador. You're going to have to find other dinner plans.”

They parted ways to get dressed up so they wouldn't look out of place. Root arranged a town car to take them to the restaurant. In the backseat, they went over where all the exits were. Shaw could smell Root's perfume. After working in retail hell, she knew what kind of perfume it was too. It was light and complex, a kind that always seemed to remind Shaw of Root whens she walked past it's display at work.

“Nice perfume,” Shaw commented as they rolled up to the restaurant.

“Thanks,” Root smiled, “You gave it to me.”

“I did?” Shaw asked. She opened the door before the driver could get to it and offered her hand to Root to help her out.

Root picked up her clutch and took Shaw's hand, “You put it in the bag when I went for the makeover.”

“Oh you mean when you were checking up on me?” Shaw quirked an eyebrow as Root stood out of the car.

Root shrugged nonchalantly, “If I lost you, who else would save me from my kamikaze missions into the belly of the beast?”

Root led the way in and smiled politely to the Maitre'd. “Reservations for Hopper.”

The maitre'd smile and walked them both up the grand stairs to the second floor seating. It was much more secluded than the main floor. It would be easy to watch their number from their seat. They were seated against the balcony railing, giving them a beautiful view of the grand piano on the main floor as well as the tactical advantage of being able to see everything.

Root pulled out her phone and slid it to Shaw. Shaw saw that it was a graphical representation of the reservation chart. Their mark was supposed to be at the table right next to them. When she looked at the table though, no one was sitting there. The table was set with a small paper tent marked 'Reserved'.

The waiter walked over to them with a bright smile and a bottle of champagne, courtesy of an anonymous benefactor. He placed an ice bucket next to their table after pouring them both glasses. Shaw picked up the bottle to examine it while Root looked over the restaurant to see if anyone had a particularly pointed interest in them.

“This is a really expansive bottle of champagne,” Shaw commented and put it back in the ice.

Root picked up her champagne flute and offered it up as a toast to Shaw, “To free champagne.”

“Cheers,” Shaw tapped her glass to Root's and they both took a sip.

The waiter came back with their food which they didn't order. The food was however, each woman's favorite. Root looked at the empty table next to them and at the food in front of her.

“This is cooked perfectly,” Shaw used a knife and a fork to lift up the edge of the steak.

Root didn't pick up her silverware. She just sat in place and asked, “What's going on?”

Shaw looked up at her, mid-bite. For a moment she forgot that they were there to watch someone. The steak in front of her was just so juicy and ready to be devoured. “Huh?”

But it was clear Root didn't ask her. Root narrowed her eyes as she listened and then looked slightly more confused than before. She addressed Shaw, “She just wants us to stay here and have dinner.”

“Seriously?” Shaw asked. She didn't waste a second though taking a bite of her steak. She moaned, “This is better than...almost better than...no this is better than sex.”

Root smiled, amused. She cut into her food and found it heavenly as well.

“It crossed my mind that someone is trying to kill us,” Shaw stated, “And the food is poisoned.” She held Root's eyes when she shook her head, “I don't care. If this is the last thing I ever eat, I'll be fine.”

Root laughed softly. “I'm glad you're enjoying your last meal.”

“Yours isn't good?” Shaw asked, “You want some of mine?”

“Mine is perfect,” Root teased, “And I feel like if I try to take some of yours, I might lose a hand.”

Shaw picked up her water just as a waist came by to drop off a drink for both of them. Root picked up her glass of wine. She brought it to her nose and smelled the perfect compliment to her meal. Shaw took a drink of her scotch straight away and hummed in contentment.

After a few minutes, the waiter came by again with a rose. He handed it to Root with a smile and told her it was from someone named Shaw. Shaw almost choked on her food and Root was stunned into silence.

Root looked the rose over for any kind of residue before she smelled it. She set it on the table next to her food. She could see that Shaw had no idea what was going on so she decided to tease her, “Thank you, Sameen.”

Shaw rolled her eyes and used the last bite of her steak to sop up the last of the juices on her plate. She ate it and put her utensils down.

The waiter came by to clear their plates. He returned with dessert and refilled their champagne. He informed them that the meal was paid for and if they needed anything else to let him know.

Root put her phone on the table and tapped around on it before she cocked her head. “Is this a date?”

Shaw was mid-bite of tiramisu when it clicked for her. “This is a date.”

“The Machine set us up,” Root sighed softly.

“If She wants to keep feeding me like this, we can go on as many dates as She wants,” Shaw took a sip of her champagne.

Root sat back in her chair. It was perplexing to her why The Machine would set them up like that. Of course the Machine liked certain people more than others, but it didn't make any kind of big picture sense for them to enter into a dating relationship.

“Why?” Root asked the air around them.

Shaw gestured to the table, “Am I really so offensive that you need an explanation so bad to go on a date with me?”

“Of course not,” Root looked Shaw over, “You know that I'd like nothing more than to-” Root stopped herself. She looked away from Shaw wishing she could stuff her words back into her mouth.

Shaw watched Root and put her fork down, “Why in the world would you want to date me?”

Root folded her hands in her lap and looked down at her dessert that she had barely touched. She decided to turn it on Shaw because she didn't really know how to explain it, “Why wouldn't I?”

“It would never be normal,” Shaw offered.

Root shrugged, “Our lives aren't exactly normal.”

“You know I can't give you -”

“I don't want anything from you, Sameen,” Root confessed. She knew that there was no turning back from a full on confession so she just put her head down and dove in, “I don't want to change you. I don't want anything from you. I just like to be around you. You care about people in your own way. I know this isn't going to develop into a normal relationship, but I've never wanted that.” She smiled slyly, “Not to mention, you're the sexiest person I've ever met. Especially when you're threatening people at gunpoit.”

“Root, I-” Shaw started, but Root cut her off.

“I am happy with the way things are,” Root quickly added so Shaw didn't feel any pressure. “I don't know what The Machine expects from this. Maybe the plan was to clear the air.”

Shaw picked up her champagne. She sat quietly for a moment. She took a sip and leaned on the table. “I think you might be the first person that's ever wanted to date me that wasn't convinced they can change me.”

“I don't know why anyone would ever want to,” Root quietly answered, her eyes barely holding contact with Shaw's.

Shaw took in the entirety of Root's statements and swallowed. She finished off her champagne and pushed away from the table, “Are you ready to go?”

Root nodded, eager to leave their conversation behind them.

The car pulled up front to pick them up and Shaw opened the door for Root. She told the driver to take them to Root's address and then sat quietly back in the seat. Root pulled up her dress a few inches and pulled a taser out of an elastic band around her thigh, “I bought a new taser for tonight and I didn't get to tase anyone.”

Shaw smiled at Root joy in tasing people. “The night is young. I'm sure you can find a reason to tase me. You're so good at it.”

Root grinned, testing the taser in the air, listening to the crackle, “How hard do you think it would be to find a mugger?”

Shaw knocked on the window between them and the driver. She asked him to drop them off immediately. They got out of the car on a poorly lit street and sent the confused and concerned driver on his way.

By the time they walked back to Root's apartment, she got to tase four people. Shaw used the zipcuffs she brought with her in her clutch to tie up the muggers and some armed robbers they accidentally stumbled upon. Shaw broke a heel so Root invited her up to borrow some shoes.

Root told Shaw she was welcome to get some water or something in the kitchen. She figured after a fight with three armed robbers, Shaw would need something to drink. She went to her bedroom and didn't bother turning the lights on because the New York City lights painted her room in a soft light.

She moved to her closet, kicking off her own shoes. Before she turned on the closet light, she felt a hand on her waist. She turned around and saw Shaw standing there. A half second later, Shaw gently pulled Root into a kiss. It was slow and drew Root deeper.

“I can't promise anything,” Shaw whispered after she pulled away.

Root shook her head, “I don't need promises.”

Shaw pulled Root back down into a much hungrier kiss. She turned them both around and backed Root up to her bed. Root sat down on the edge of the bed and Shaw straddled her lap, unzipping the back of Root's dress without breaking the kiss.  


	21. Chapter 21

Shaw was laying on the floor of the abandoned subway next to Bear. He was sick or something. He wouldn't eat. He wouldn't play. Shaw and Reese were getting really worried.

Reese was sitting on a chair next to Bear's bed. “We need to take him to the vet.”

“I'm scared to move him,” Shaw sat up. She looked at Reese, “I tried to get him to come get some food earlier. He growled at me and then yelped when I touched him.”

Reese leaned his forearms on his knees. “We could bring a vet to him.”

“Watch your step,” a familiar voice drifted down the stairs.

“Root?” Shaw stood up and walked to the stairs. She saw the hacker walking down the stairs with a woman in a blindfold.

“This is Dr. Chandler,” Root told Shaw as she helped the woman down the stairs, “She is the best vet in New England.”

When Root and Dr. Chandler got to the level floor, Root took the blindfold off of her. Dr. Chandler looked a little nervous, but when she saw Bear she cooed and walked straight over to him. She looked at Root when she got to Bear, “I need my bag.”

“Of course,” Root took the bag off of her shoulder and handed it to Dr. Chandler.

“Where the hell have you been?” Shaw asked Root as they followed Dr. Chandler to Bear.

“Hong Kong,” Root answered, stopping behind Dr. Chandler. She crossed her arms, “I have to go back after Bear is well.”

“By yourself?” Shaw quietly asked.

Root nodded, not looking at Shaw. She knew it was going to be uncomfortable with Shaw. Root performed surgery on Shaw, removing the Samaritan implant in her brain under The Machine's direction. Then Root disappeared before Shaw woke up.

Shaw clenched her jaw, “Are you going to say goodbye this time?”

Root inhaled softly, “I'm sorry.”

Shaw huffed and moved away from Root and closer to Bear. She was pissed that Root didn't stick around after the rescue. She was pissed that Root didn't say anything or send any kind of communication in the past three months.

The vet gave Bear a shot and then told them she wanted to watch him. Harold mentioned that Root looked jetlagged and offered hr the bed in the subway. She declined, but asked to borrow a laptop.

Shaw sat on the ground with her back against the subway car, next to Bear. Reese was still in his chair. Root sat on the subway bench farthest away from everyone, typing on her computer. Harold left to get food for everyone when no one would say anything.

When Dr. Chandler knelt down next to Bear, Shaw got up and walked over to Root. Root looked tiredly up when she saw Shaw coming. She knew that she was about to get chewed out. She knew it was coming and she knew she deserved it.

What she didn't expect was the single question Shaw asked, “Could you have come back? Even for a weekend, could you have come back here?”

Root looked silently up at Shaw. She didn't know how to answer that. She had a lot of downtime in Hong Kong. She definitely could have escaped for a week and flown back to New York. It would have been easy. She looked away from Shaw because she didn't want to see the anger building in Shaw's eyes.

Shaw smiled humorlessly and exhaled through her nose, “I knew it.”

“What did you know, Sameen?” Root closed the laptop and put it aside. She was tired, she was jetlagged and she wasn't going to be brushed off.

“Nothing,” Shaw tried to walk away, but Root grabbed her hand.

“I shouldn't have left,” Root told her softly, still sitting, “But I don't know – I was scared and Hong Kong was a nice excuse to get out of town.”

“Scared of what?” Shaw yanked her arm away from Root.

Root swallowed, “You saved us back at the Stock Exchange. You... you kissed me and then you saved us.” Root blinked slowly to regain her composure. “You could have given anyone your gun and any one of us could have held off the operatives while the elevator doors closed. Maybe except Harold, but I was already hurt and John was already hurt. We could have gone out there and you could have easily gotten Harold out of there.” Root held Shaw's eyes when she asked, “How many more times can you sacrifice yourself like that before you don't make it out?”

“That's a shitload of hypocrisy coming from you,” Shaw's eyebrows furrowed in anger, “You go out on more suicidal missions than the rest of us put together.”

“No one cares about me the way we care about you,” Root quipped. “The team needs you. It's better if I'm working by myself for a little while.”

“Until when?” Shaw asked, daring Root to answer.

Root didn't know what to say. She licked her lips. She didn't have an answer.

“You can run away all you want, but don't for a second think that you running away is keeping anyone safer,” Shaw coldly held Root's eyes before walking away.

“I can't handle losing you again,” Root quietly told Shaw's back. “And yes I'm scared. I ran away because I'm scared.”

Shaw looked over her shoulder at Root, “You can be scared, but what are you going to do about it?”

The look Shaw shot at Root, screamed through her entire body. Root just held Shaw's gaze before Shaw turned away to go check on Bear.

Harold returned with the food, not ten minutes later. Root stayed in her spot, accepting the sandwich Harold offered her with a thankful smile. He sat down next to her and watched Reese and Shaw worry over Bear with a kidnapped doctor who didn't seem to remember that she had been kidnapped.

“We've missed you, Ms. Groves,” Harold broke the silence.

Root looked up from her computer, “I've missed you guy too.” She missed them more than she could really expressed, but she saw her self-imposed isolation as a necessity.

“You don't have to leave,” Harold offered.

“Everyone that has ever cared about me is gone,” Root quietly watched Shaw pet behind Bear's ears.

Harold took a deep breath, “Everyone goes eventually in one way or another. Does that mean we never love at all?”

Root looked at Harold, “Don't give me your fortune cookie wisdom. It's more complicated than that and you know it.”

“What I do know is I have never seen Ms. Shaw so saddened as when she woke up and you weren't there,” Harold told her.

Root sighed softly. She knew Harold and Shaw were both right. She was running away and running away wasn't the answer. Logically, she knew all those things. However, she could see Shaw taking bullet after bullet while she was trapped behind the elevator grate.

Reese went to lay down on the bed and Harold left Root to stew by herself, sitting at the computer to check on some things.

Root finally got up. She walked over toward Shaw and Bear. She sat down next to Bear and gently stroked his fur. He didn't wake up from his sleep so she kept stroking him softly.

Root finally spoke, “I'm sorry, Sameen. I should have been there when you woke up.” She sat back against the subway train so she and Shaw were looking in the same direction which was pointedly not at each other.

Shaw didn't say anything so Root continued, “I watched you get shot and I couldn't stop it. I hunted for your for weeks. I had my hands…my hands were… I performed surgery on you – in your head - because I couldn't stop you from getting shot.”

“That wasn't your fault,” Shaw stated. “You didn't have a choice.”

“I should have seen it coming,” Root sighed, “I see everything coming.” She looked over at Shaw, finally looking into her eyes, “I was scared. I'm sorry. I don't want to lose you.”

“You lost me the second you walked away,” Shaw clenched her jaw.

Tears sprung to Root's eyes. She looked down at the dog, “Is there anything I can do to make this right?”

“Stay,” Shaw immediately answered, “Stop running away.”

Root wiped her eyes and looked down at her lap. She nodded slowly. “Okay. I'll stay.”

Shaw put his hand on Bear and rubbed his fur. “Good.”

Root looked up at the ceiling of the subway and let out a small sigh. She was going to stay. She was going to face her fears. She moved her head toward Shaw and looked at Bear, “Do you think he's going to be okay?”

Shaw turned her body toward Bear, “I think so. He's a fighter.” She felt Bear's heartbeat just to be sure, “Thanks for kidnapping a vet for him.”

Root knew that Shaw knew the kidnapping wasn't just for Bear. She didn't say anything. She just nodded, “Of course.”

“It'll be okay,” Shaw said to no on in particular. She rubbed Bear and exhaled, “It'll be okay.”


	22. Chapter 22

Shaw was asleep in her bed when there was a knock on the door. She huffed. It was too early for anyone to be bothering her. She heaved herself up out of the bed and picked up her handgun. She walked to the door and opened it, finding someone completely unexpected.

“Mom?” Shaw asked, although it was clearly her mom.

Her mom smiled, “I thought I’d come check on you since I was in town.”

“You didn’t tell me you were in town,” Shaw stepped back as her mother walked into her apartment.

“That way I could surprise you and you wouldn’t be out of town,” her mom grinned at her. She put her bag down next to the door and took her coat off. “I see you decorated.” Her mother picked up some pants off of the ground.

Shaw tucked her gun in the back of her sweatpants and covered it with her shirt. She looked around trying to make sure that all of her weapons were out of plain sight.

“So you’re speaking at a conference?” Shaw asked her mom.

“I am,” her mother looked around the apartment. She picked up a bra off of the Shaw’s headboard. It was a bra that most certainly wasn’t Shaw’s. It was deep red and lacy and not the right size.

The door opened again and a dog bounded in, running straight to Shaw. Bear sat at her feet and happily received the loving that Shaw was bestowing on him. “Hey Bear.”

“He pulled me all way from Midtown,” Root stepped into the apartment with a coffee in her hand. A limp leash hung in her other hand. “I saw your door was open so we came to check-” Root stopped talking when she saw the other woman in the room. “And that explains it.” Root moved back toward the door, knowing exactly who else was in the apartment holding her bra.

“And that explained why Bear drug you all the way here,” Shaw saw Bear crawl under her bed and return with a tennis ball.

“I suppose this is yours,” Shaw’s mom offered the bra to Root.

Root awkwardly smiled and accepted the bra stuffing it into her coat pocket, “It was nice to meet you, Dr. Shaw.” Root walked toward the door, “Bear, komen.”

Bear ran to Root and sat down at her feet so that she could put his leash on him.

“You don’t have to leave,” Shaw’s mother offered, “Since it seems the two of your are just waking up. How about I take you both to breakfast?”

“Oh no,” came out of both Root and Shaw’s mouths. Root grew quiet and let Shaw explain. Shaw opened her mouth, but her mother cut her off with a look.

Shaw’s mother walked over to Root, “I’m Arya Shaw.”

“Nice to meet you,” Root politely shook her hand. “You can call me Root.”

Arya momentarily made a face at such a strange name. “Root?”

“Ma,” Shaw weakly defended Root.

“There’s a restaurant across the street from my hotel where you can bring your dog,” Arya moved to the door. She looked at Shaw.

Shaw started moving toward her closet leaving Root and Bear with Arya. Luckily for Root, Bear whined so she walked him to the kitchen area and got him a bowl of water.

“Have you two been seeing each other long?” Arya asked Root.

Root leaned back on the sink and looked toward Shaw who was pulling on a coat over her shirt. “Uh, not long. I mean, we've known each other for a while, but...” Root just abandoned her sentence in the middle because it was going to be a trainwreck either way.

“Were you in the military?” Arya asked, “Is that where you met?”

Root chuckled a little. The thought of her in the military was quite hilarious to her. “No. I work in IT.”

Shaw walked toward the door, calling Bear with her. Root followed, slowly and hesitantly. Arya asked, “How did you two meet?”

“Work,” Shaw stated succinctly.

They walked a few blocks to the restaurant, Arya quizzing Root and Shaw about their relationship the whole way. Root let Shaw lie their way into a hole and didn’t say much. She only spoke when directly spoken to. She was quite perplexed by the whole situation.

Arya told them to get a table while she went to her hotel to get something.

“Thanks for all the help,” Shaw told Root sarcastically, while they waited to be seated in the patio of the restaurant.

“I didn’t know your mother was here,” Root put her hands in her pockets, “I didn’t even know you had a mother.”

“Why wouldn’t I have a mother?” Shaw as slightly offended.

The hostess walked them to a table and Root waited for Shaw to sit before sitting herself. Bear laid down under Shaw’s chair, “You never talk about her. And you run around with a merry band of violent orphans. I just assumed.” She looked at Shaw, “Why are we pretending to be a normal couple?”

“Because maybe if my mom thinks I have a stable, sane girlfriend, maybe she’ll stop worrying so much about me,” Shaw huffed, “She’s hypertensive with a history of heart disease in her paternal family. She doesn’t need to worry.”

Root could see that Shaw was stressed. She could see that Shaw did care for her mother enough to lie to her face so the least she could do was oblige. For a morning, they could be a normal couple and not the teammates with benefits, maybe a little something more, that they both avoided talking about. Root turned over the coffee up on the table, “I can do stable or sane. I can’t do both.”

Shaw glared at her. “You’re a professional liar,” Shaw quipped, “Figure it out.”

Root sat back in her chair, “Can I get a full rundown of Dr. Arya Shaw?”

Shaw rolled her eyes knowing that Root was going to use the Machine to charm her mother. Shaw watched Root’s face go from blankly studious to cheshire cat. When Root looked at her, Shaw put her hand up, “I don’t want to know.”

Arya walked over to them while The Machine was still talking to Root. She smiled politely and stood while Arya sat down.

“Sam tells me that you’re speaking at a medical conference this evening,” Root started up the conversation. She was charming and managed to throw in enough things that Arya liked to connect with Arya.

While Root was talking to the waiter, Arya leaned over to Shaw and spoke to her in Persian, “ _Keep this one. She really cares about you.”_

Shaw struggled to control her eye roll, “ _We just started seeing each other.”_

Her mom just shrugged, giving her a classic ‘listen to your mother’ look.

When Shaw looked at Root, she knew that she heard everything and the Machine translated for her.

By the time the plates were being cleared, Arya had to go to a pre-conference meeting. Arya hugged Root goodbye and told Shaw she’d see her later.

Shaw took the leftovers from the table and put them on one plate. Then she set it in front of Bear.

“Harold doesn’t like that,” Root told Shaw.

“It’s fine,” Shaw pet Bear.

Root leaned back in her chair and caught Shaw’s eyes, “So do I get an A plus?” She picked up Shaw’s water and took a sip before putting it down.

“Yeah, Root, let me get out my red pen,” Shaw took her water back and used her sleeve to wipe off the rim of the glass where Root had drank from it.

Root leaned over and grinned, “That’s not the kind of A I want, Shaw.”

Shaw raised her eyebrows and sat back with a slight smile. She knew what Root was getting at. “Really?”

Root looked up, listening to the voice in her ear. She stood from the table, “I left you a little something at your apartment. You should maybe try it on tonight.”

“It’s not a french maid uniform is it?” Shaw watched Root push her chair in.

“Don’t be silly,” Root smirked, “I would never leave you something like that. What I left is much more revealing. I’ll be over at eleven.”

Shaw clenched her jaw and watched Root walk away. When she disappeared around the corner, Shaw looked down at Bear, “Looks like you’ll be sleeping with Uncle Harold tonight.”


	23. Chapter 23

Root pushed back against the wall. She took a deep breath and pivoted on her toe to swing around the corner. She leveled her guns and started firing, “ _You're_ the one that wanted to get married.”

“You can't tell me that you didn't want to,” Shaw answered in her ear, on the opposite side of the warehouse. She dodged a punch and grabbed the operative trying to get her. She kicked the back of his knee causing him to fall to his knees. She punched him hard once in the face and he fell unconscious.

Root huffed, “You asked me.”

“You wanted me to,” Shaw searched the operative. She found a key card and pocketed it.

“I never asked you to,” Root kicked open a door and found a hallway full of operatives, “You said something about tax benefits and handed me a ring.” Root started shooting, “I've never paid taxes in my life.”

Shaw growled and tackled another operative, “I knew it was a bad idea.”

“Then why did you do it?” Root's voice raised in volume as her guns both clicked empty. She tossed them aside and picked up the guns that the operatives were holding.

“You wanted me to!” Shaw raised her voice as well.

Root shot a key panel and then kicked in a door. She found a computer console and sat down at it, “I never asked you to. I don't know why you'd think I wanted you to. I loved you exactly the way you are.”

Shaw stopped cold, “Loved?”

“Sameen,” Root typed on the computer, “I never wanted you to change. I know you're Axis II. I know getting married doesn't matter to you.”

“How could you have not wanted me to change?” Shaw asked. She started moving again, “Where are you?”

“The server room,” Root answered. She sighed and stopped typing, “I didn't want you to change. I would have been happy going on like we were.”

“Would you really?” Shaw started making her way toward Shaw's side of the warehouse.

Root resumed typing. She wasn't sure how to answer that question. She wasn't sure what would have happened. The wedding wasn't a fairytale. It was the exchange of rings after they saved a jewelry store owner from a gang trying to take control of their side of town. Since Shaw was legally dead and Root was wanted in quite a few countries, any kind of marriage involving paperwork was out of the question.

“Why did you ask me to marry you?” Root asked, picking up her gun and pointing it at an operative walking into the door behind her. She shot him in the kneecap and resumed typing.

Shaw punched an operative and picked up her gun. “I wanted you to be happy.”

“I was happy before you asked,” Root executed her payload and stood from the computer. “I was happy when I was sneaking out of your apartment at 2am. I was happy before you kissed me for the first time because you were you.”

“So you liked the idea of a relationship with me more than having one,” Shaw found the mountain of ailing operatives Root left behind.

“That's not true,” Root stated. She picked up the guns and walked toward the door. She turned the corner and saw Shaw standing at the end of the hallway. She smiled softly, “Maybe we shouldn't have made promises we couldn't keep.”

“Maybe not,” Shaw looked down, defeated. “I don't know why I thought I could do this.”

Root could feel her heart breaking because she knew it was the end. She looked down at her left hand at the platinum band on her finger. “I'm gonna go to Barcelona for a few weeks. We still have to be able to work together.”

Shaw nodded, slowly, “Okay.” She shrugged, “If it means anything, I wanted this to work.”

Root smiled sadly, “Me too.” She walked toward Shaw and stopped in front of her, “But remember, you made a vow. Trash goes out on Wednesdays.”

Shaw could see Root trying to cover up her heartbreak. They both knew that going into this, one of them was more likely to get hurt than the other. Shaw closed her eyes when Root kissed her. She put her hands on Root's waist and remembered all the times she touched the skin underneath Root's clothes. They did have fun. Then they stopped having fun.

She could taste Root's tears, but Root was already walking away when she finally opened her eyes. Shaw looked at all the bodies at her feet and put her hands in her pockets. She didn't experience sadness, but disappointment was definitely something biting the edges of her psyche.

A gunshot went off and Shaw's head snapped up. The radios on the fallen operatives around her started crackling with commands. She thought they got everyone. “Root?” Shaw started walking in the direction of the gunshot, “Root!”

  



	24. Chapter 24

It was nearing six in the morning when Shaw and Reese walked out of their last number of the night. It had been a rapid succession of numbers since about noon the previous day and they were slowly making their way back to the subway to drop off some hard drives Harold requested from their third number.

“I’m running low on ammo,” Shaw commented as they stopped at a crosswalk.

“There’s a gun show in New Jersey next week,” Reese offered, “I know a guy that’s going to be there. All cash, no questions.”

“Sounds fun,” Shaw looked around the early risers making their way to work or the gym. “I could use a new knife too. Mine got bent on that mobster’s femur.”

“I offered you a shovel,” Reese pulled out his phone and looked at it.

Shaw’s stride slowed when she saw someone familiar stepping out of a building across the street. Root stopped under the awning of a six-story residential building. She was dressed in a green cocktail dress that was slightly askew. Shaw watched her dig in her purse and pull out some flats. Root held onto the metal pole of the awning so she could remove her uncomfortably high heels and put on the flats without her bare feet touching the ground.

Then she took out a mirror and looked at herself. She wiped some errant eyeliner away, tucked some stray hair behind her ear, and snapped the mirror closed. Without looking across the street, Root turned and walked in the opposite direction of where the subway command center was with her heels in her hand.

“I’ll catch up with you, “Shaw told Reese when she stopped cold in the middle of the street.

He looked up from his phone and nodded, “Okay. Good job tonight, Shaw.”

“Yeah, you too,” Shaw said absently, already walking across the street.

She had to wait for a resident of the building to walk out so she could get past the security door. She wasn’t sure how she was going to find where Root had been, but she walked along the long, depressingly generic hallway until she got to some stairs.

She couldn’t imagine Root spending the night with anyone in a building as run down as the one she was carefully walking through. Of course imagining Root spending the night with anyone injected a warm shot of anger right into her bloodstream. In the back of her mind, Shaw knew why, but had yet to reconcile it with everything she had felt and not felt before in her life.

Shaw arrived on the second floor and peered down the hallway. Nothing seemed out of place. She continued up with the same routine until she got to the sixth floor. She spotted a small silver bracelet on the ground. It didn’t look familiar, but it matched the necklace Root was wearing when she walked out of the building.

Shaw moved down the hallway, listening. A man in a maintenance uniform stepped out of one of the apartemtns and closed the door behind himself. Shaw walked past that door and stopped when she saw an unfired bullet poking out from under one of the doors.

Shaw tried the door handle and found it unlocked. What she found on the other side of the door was definitely not what she expected. There was a man, hanging from the ceiling, his arms spread with a hood over his head. He was groaning incoherently.

The couch had been shoved against the wall and two large duffel bags were laying in it’s place. Shaw slowly moved to the bags and unzipped one of them. A red, construction paper heart was laying on top of thousands of boxed bullets. The simply read:  _Happy Valentines Day._

Shaw looked in the other duffel bag and sound the same thing, except instead of a paper heart there was a pink pastry box. Shaw opened the pastry box, delighted to find still warm kolaches.

She picked up both of the bags while eating a kolache and started to walk out. A shiny metal box on the table next to the door caught her eye. She picked it up and opened it, finding a brand new butterfly knife. There was a note in the top of the box asking her to cut Carl down. Shaw was sure that Carl was the guy hanging from the ceiling.

Shaw cut him down with ease because her knew knife was sharp and definitely not bent. Shaw smiled as she walked out of the apartment, eating her kolache. It looked like she wasn’t going to have to go to New Jersey after all.


	25. Chapter 25

“You don't have to be so excited to be my partner,” Reese told Root while they walked from the car to the dock where their number's yacht was moored.

Root took out her gun and started screwing a suppressor into it, “No offense, John. I was just hoping that my view today would be a little lower to the ground and a little angrier.”

“You can hit on me inappropriately and I'll glare at you if it makes you feel better,” Reese reached into his breast pocket for his gun.

Root smiled, “I'll keep that in mind.”

Across town, Shaw and Fusco were taking pictures of a swarma vendor whose number came up. Shaw picked up a fry and popped it into her mouth while she took pictures, “Anything on this guy?”

“He's squeaky clean,” Fusco flipped up a page in the file. “No arrest records. No traffic tickets. One parking ticket the was paid the day after it was issued. I don't like it.”

“No one is that nice,” Shaw lifted up her camera again to snap a picture of their guy. “I'm going to go talk to him.” She handed the camera to Fusco.

“Are you sure you're just not hungry?” Fusco huffed, looking at his phone.

Shaw got out of the car and walked toward the vendor. She got halfway there when her ear beeped. She was sure she knew who it was and answered it, “Root.”

“Hey Shaw,” Reese answered, “I need you to get to the subway as soon as possible.”

“What happened?” Shaw asked.

“Root took a few bullets,” Shaw could hear more shots over Reese's voice.

Root's labored voice came over the line, “It's just a scratch.”

“John,” Shaw changed directions, making her way toward the subway, “Where are you?”

“I need you to get to the subway,” Reese shot the last operative and picked up Root, “We're on our way.”

Shaw was pacing around in latex gloves when John carried Root down the stairs. He set her on the table that Shaw had set up. His shirt was stained with Root's blood when he put her down.

“Root?” Shaw asked, ripping open Root's shirt to see where the blood was coming from, “You still with me?” Shaw ran her hands up and down Root's torso finding the bullet wounds.

Reese put on some gloves and started handing Shaw gauze to soak up the blood. Root nodded, “Yeah. Just stings a little.”

“It's about to sting a lot more,” Shaw picked up a bottle of vodka. She poured it on the bullet wounds, rinsing the blood away and exposing the wounds to Shaw. Root started squirming in pain. “John, you gotta hold her down.”

Reese put his hands on Root's shoulders as Shaw pulled the first bullet out. Root didn't move much, knowing that she couldn't. “You okay, Root?” Shaw asked, dropping a bloody towel on the ground and tossing the bullet down on top of it.

“Sure. This is fun,” Root grabbed onto Reese's wrists so she had something to hold onto and she didn't grab the taser that was still in her pocket to tase both of the people standing over her. She screamed when Shaw disinfected the wound. She was sweating profusely when Shaw started sewing up the wound. She laid back and cringed, “So much fun.”

“The Machine didn't tell you that bullets are bad?” Shaw asked, tying off her stitches.

Root squeezed Reese's wrists when Shaw started digging for the other bullet, “She told me that John was exposed and the bullets wouldn't hit anything vital if they hit me.” She gritted her teeth, “Just get the damn bullet, Sameen.” Her body started to arch in pain, but Reese held her down.

Shaw looked over at Root, “It would be easier if you would stop moving.”

“Excuse me for involuntary reactions to extreme pain,” Root snapped.

Shaw grabbed the bullet and pulled it out. Shaw didn't answer Root because she knew it was a pain reaction. Most patients got the luxury of anesthesia when things like that happened to them. She started sewing up the wound, “Do you want painkillers?”

“No,” Root answered, “It's almost over.” She took deep breaths calming herself and letting go of Reese's wrists. The worst of it was over, “That was easy.”

Reese let go of Root and rubbed his wrists, “Thanks.”

Root nodded slowly when Shaw was done sewing her up, “Who else's shadow am I going to stand in on hot summer days?”

Shaw peeled off her gloves and got a fresh pair. She put gauze over the wounds, “You know the drill. Keep it dry. Change it every forty-eight hours.”

“I was hoping you could do it for me,” Root smiled lazily up at Shaw.

Shaw rolled her eyes, but was relieved that Root was okay. “You're going to have to take it easy.”

“Are you gonna make me?” Root looked around. She sat up, but only enough to grabbed the bottle of vodka. She took a drink straight from the bottle.

“Okay, these are just bad,” Shaw told Root, taking the bottle away from her after her second drink. “You're usually more creative than that Root.”

“You should have heard what she said to me,” Reese took off his gloves and threw them in the bloody pile on the floor.

Shaw put her hands on her hips and looked at Root.

Root sat up slowly and took the vodka bottle out of Shaw's hand. She took a long drink while Reese spoke, “She told me I have a nice butt.”

Shaw looked at Root. Root grinned, “Not that it compares to yours, Sweetie.”

“Oh that hurt,” Reese put his hand over his heart.

“I hate both of you,” Shaw pulled off her latex gloves, tossed them down, and walked out of the subway station.


	26. Chapter 26

It was stupid. It was really stupid. It was just a nightmare. A rapid succession of made up images and clips. Things that never happened.

It was stupid, but she was still laying on the roof of a residential building looking through a sniper scope. The windows were large and easy to see through. It was apparent that Shaw wasn't scared of someone looking in her windows and seeing her. Of course the only angle that could see in her window was the one Root was at.

She scanned the apartment with the scope, wishing that she had some kind of optical device that wasn't attached to a weapon.

“It was just a dream,” Root whispered to herself, “She's not dead.”

She focused on the bed in the middle of the apartment. There were sheets and pillows everywhere, but she couldn't make out a form that was definitively Shaw. Her eyes scanned the bed, trying to find Shaw anyway. She had a knot in her stomach. If there was a number, she would know about it.

“Hands up,” a gruff voice said behind Root.

Root slowly took her hands away from the rifle. Her hood obscured her peripheral vision so she couldn't see who was ordering her around. She was trying to think of a way to explain herself to a security guard or police officer when a booted foot roughly rolled her onto her back.

The gun pointed at her dropped and Shaw sighed, “Root, what are you doing?”

“Checking on your security?” Root asked more than answered.

“C'mon Root,” Shaw helped Root to her feet, “Did the Machine send you to kill me or something?”

Root inhaled slowly, “No.” She looked over at Shaw's apartment and put her hands in her pockets, “Instead of explaining the grotesquely embarrassing reason I'm here, can I offer you a gift?” She gestured to the sniper rifle set up on the roof.

“Is there food?” Shaw asked, moving to the rifle. She laid down there Root was and looked through the scope. “You were watching me sleep? That's kinda creepy. Even for you.”

Root sat down on the roof and leaned back on the wall containing the stairwell they both used to get on the roof, “Sorry.” She watched Shaw lay flat, looking through the scope.

Shaw looked over her shoulder at Root, “What's wrong with you? You usually just come in.”

“I had a bad feeling,” Root pushed some bangs out of her face. “That case for that rifle is in the subway station.” She stood up, “I'll bring it over tomorrow.”

Shaw stood up and picked up the rifle. She collapsed the legs, keeping an eye on Root who was moving toward the stairs. “You wanna go get something to eat? I want some waffles.”

Root stayed wrapped up in herself, but nodded. She opened the door for Shaw and followed her down the stairs. They walked across the street together and up to Shaw's apartment so she could put the gun up and get dressed.

When they got to the diner, Root was a little less closed off. She sat sideways in the booth with her back against the wall. She took a drink of her coffee and watched the people of the New York night walk past the window of the diner.

“You're freaking me out,” Shaw leaned forward onto the table.

Root looked over at Shaw with a soft smile, “I just couldn't sleep.”

“That coffee is not going to help,” Shaw pointed to the cup on Root's hand.

Root nodded, “Probably not.”

Their three a.m. breakfast was quiet. Root paid the check without even looking at it. They walked out the door and Root stopped at the corner where she and Shaw needed to part ways. “I'll see you later, Sameen.”

“I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep either,” Shaw put her hands on her pockets, “Why don't we go over to my place and not sleep?”

Root let a slight smile out, “Sounds fun.”

Shaw started walking toward her apartment and Root was quick to follow. But the kind of not sleep Shaw had in mind was different from what Root was expecting. Shaw stripped down her to underwear on the way to the bed and laid down. Root did the same and laid in the dark apartment next to Shaw.

Shaw stared at the ceiling. Root laid on her side, watching Shaw, wondering what she was thinking.

“You know you can call me,” Shaw finally said out loud. “You don't have to point a high powered rifle at my head to see if I'm okay.”

“I didn't want to wake you,” Root confessed quietly.

Shaw looked over at Root, “That's stupid. I can go back to sleep. Call me.”

“Okay,” Root accepted the order and knew it was because Shaw cared about her in her own way. She moved her head toward Shaw's and gently kissed her, knowing that the action was more for her than for Shaw, “Thank you, Sam.”

Shaw opened her eyes when Root pulled away. She licked her lips and watched the light from the city lay gently on top of Root. She wondered what it would be like to feel things normal people did. She wondered if she'd appreciate Root more or if Root would even be attracted to her anymore. She often wondered what Root saw in her to begin with.

“Goodnight Root,” Shaw said, ending the night for both of them.

Root went with it and closed her eyes, curling into her own pillow. “Goodnight, Sameen.”


	27. Chapter 27

“I hope you don't mind,” Reese moved to the door, “I thought you ladies might want some more back-up.” He opened the door of his apartment to reveal Root, standing in the hallway. She was wearing a cobalt blue dress.

“You're supposed to be in the psychiatric ward,” Harold immediately objected, pointing to Root.

Root grinned, “I got out early for good behavior.”

“No way,” Shaw looked at Reese.

“We need eyes inside,” Reese answered. “And she has access to _the_ eye.” Reese looked at Joss, trying to convince her first.

Joss took Reese at his word and nodded, “If you want to send her in, fine.”

Root walked down the stairs and introduced herself, “You're Zoe Morgan. I've been going over her your work. I'm impressed.”

Zoe looked at Reese, “I like her.”

“You won't like me when I tell you that the data dump of Senator Corbitt's laptop in 2001,” Root added, “Was me.”

Zoe's eyes widened, “I didn't sleep for a week.”

“Sorry,” Root moved on to Joss, “Detective. It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard great things.”

“How many of my cold cases are you responsible for?” Joss looked Root up and down.

Root smiled brightly, “None of yours. One of Detective Fusco's. A few others across the country. Seven in Russia.” Root waved her hand, “That's all over now though. Part of the deal what that I don't get a weapon. I'm just eyes. Right, John?”

Reese nodded.

Root's eyes moved to Shaw, “Hi, Shaw.”

Shaw didn't say anything. She just glared back.

“Well,” Root turned away from Shaw, “I'll head to the club, find a good vantage point.”

“Just watching,” Reese told her.

Root nodded, “Just watching.” She moved past the women against and up the stairs. She slipped out the door, leaving a scowling Shaw behind her.

“I can't help, but think this is a little reckless, Mr. Reese,” Harold told John.

Reese looked at Harold, “I don't trust her completely. I trust her to keep our people safe.”

“Then what?” Harold asked.

“I didn't get that far,” Reese moved toward the door, “Shall we?”

When they walked into the club and had a few drinks, the three of them moved out onto the dance floor. Shaw kept an eye out though. She wanted to know where Root was, but she couldn't see her.

She thought she saw Root in the crowd right before Joss got picked up by their guy. She watched them leave and went back to the table. Zoe was chatting up another man at the bar so Shaw sat down by herself, picking up a bottle of whiskey and took a drink right out of it.

“Can I get some of that?” Root asked, standing next to the table.

Shaw looked up at Root, “Get your own.”

Root looked around and picked up a bottle off of a passing tray. She picked up a glass off of the table and scooped up some ice. She poured the vodka on it and picked up a lime off of a passing drink. “What can I do to make you like me?”

“Nothing,” Shaw watched Root sit down next to her on the couch.

Root put her arm on the back of the couch. It was close enough to touch Shaw, but she didn't. “That's too bad. I think I'll be around for a while.” She looked over at Shaw and took a sip of her drink, “You look nice, Sameen.”

“What do you want Root?” Shaw rolled her eyes.

Root stood up with a smile, “Nothing right now. We have time.” Her eyes flickered to a pair of eyes at the bar. Shaw followed her gaze and saw a woman at the bar smiling at Root.

“I'll see you later, Shaw,” Root walked over to the bar and sat down next to the woman. They immediately started chatting and laughing.

Shaw used all the surveillance tactics she knew to keep an eye on Root. Root and the woman at the bar had a few drinks and danced to a few songs.

“Personally,” Zoe sat down next to Shaw with a glass of champagne in her hand, “I think she should probably be put back into the psych hospital, but I can see the appeal.”

“What?” Shaw looked over at Zoe, breaking her surveillance on Root.

Zoe smiled, “She's a hurricane. You're a wildfire.” Zoe finished off her champagne and stood, “I wouldn't want to stand in the way when those forces smash together,” Zoe put her glass down, “Tell John I went home.”

Shaw turned back to where Root was and found that she was gone. Shaw looked around the club, but couldn't find Root. She was probably in the wind.

Shaw got up off of the couch and decided to call it a night as well. She put on her coat and walked out of the club, knowing that she was going to see Root again.

Root watched from the far street corner and smiled as Shaw walked away. Root watched her turn the corner before turning around to head to her place. Shaw had no idea what was coming her way.


	28. Root and Moriarty Part 2

Root pushed open a door and let Shaw walk in first. “How is seeing your ex going to help our case?”

“No one moves black market art anywhere without Jamie knowing,” Root smiled lightly. She pressed the button for the elevator and found that there were two large men in suits already standing in it. Root looked them over, “These are new.” She stepped into the elevator anyway and pressed the button for the penthouse. 

Shaw hopped on after her as the doors were closing. She faced the doors with the men behind her, but listened for any movement in the back of the elevator.

Root put her hands in her pocket and rocked back on her heels. Shaw looked over at Root. Behind her smile, there was a slight anxiety, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“No,” Root answered. She looked over at Shaw, “But I don't see us having a choice.”

When the door opened, they were greeted with an empty living room. Root stepped out first, knowing that confidence or at least the illusion of it, was key. Shaw kept in step with Root as they walked past the modern living room. Root moved past the living room, down a short hallway, and into a room on the left. Two pocket doors opened to a grand library.

Jamie Moriarty was sitting on a stool in front of a half blank canvas. She had a palette in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. When she heard Root and Shaw's boots on the hardwood floors, she looked up. A wicked smile crossed her face, “Samantha.”

“Jamie,” Root smiled back.

Jamie put down the palette and paintbrush on the easel tray. She unbuttoned the large blue shirt she wore when she painted revealing a hunter green tank top. She walked over to a sitting area and gestured for Root and Shaw to take a seat on the loveseat across from the chair Jamie was standing in front of, “Would you ladies like some tea?”

“No,” Shaw stated immediately. She opted to stand behind the couch while Root walked to the front of it and sat down.

“I would love some,” Root answered.

Jamie picked up the steaming kettle in the middle of the table and poured two cups of tea. She placed one in front of Root and sat back in her chair, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need your help,” Root reached into her pocket and took out her phone. “Someone has stolen one of Whistler's Nocturnes from a private collection in Manhattan. I believe their aim is to sell it.”

Jamie frowned deeply, “I am disappointed that I didn't know of the Nocturne before now.”

“It was smuggled in on a boat with hundreds of other crates of electronics and flea market prints,” Root took out her phone and pulled up a picture, “This is who stole it.”

Jamie took the phone from Root and looked over the picture. She immediately stood and walked quickly to the door calling, “Frederick!”

A man in a suit stopped in front of the doorway, waiting for instruction, “Bring me Blake Cardozo immediately.”

The man nodded and walked away, taking his phone as he left. Jamie whirled back into the room and settled into her chair, “Blake Cardozo used to work for me. He was decent art historian, but a sub-par thief.” Jamie picked up her tea, “We didn't end things on the friendliest of terms.”

“Did he steal anything from you?” Shaw asked.

“If he stole from me, he wouldn't be breathing now to steal from you,” Jamie answered, taking a sip of her tea. She looked at Root, “What is your interest in this?”

Root picked up her tea, “If this deal goes through, a lot of people are going to get hurt.”

“You didn't used to care about things like that,” Jamie leaned back and put her arm on the back of the couch.

“Yeah well,” Root smiled, “Someone has shown me that people matter.”

Jamie studied Root for a moment, “Well, your newfound humanity is surprising. I hope that you haven't gained too much of it because in exchange for Cardozo, I need you to get some information for me.”

Root looked over at Shaw who gave her an 'I-told-you-there-was-a-catch' look. Root took a deep breath and looked back at Jamie, “What kind of information?”

Jamie stood up and walked to a desk in the corner of the room. She picked up a laptop off of the surface of the desk. She walked back over to Root and handed it over. “A security company is moving what they describe as priceless antiquities through the city in three days.”

“And you have a price in mind,” Root opened the laptop and started typing. She was really just making a show to running useless queries because the Machine was already whispering in her ear. “Are you planning a heist?”

“A heist of sorts,” Jamie answered.

“Sameen has quite a bit of experience in grand larceny,” Root commented. “She worked with Tomas Koroa for a little while.”

Jamie looked up at Shaw who had taken to looking at the paintings on the wall, “How is Tomas?”

“I haven't talked to him in a while,” Shaw answered, looking at the painting more closely. She pointed to it and asked Jamie, “Where are you keeping the original?” Shaw lifted the frame and looked at the back of it, “Behind this forgery?”

Jamie grinned, “I can see why Tomas wanted you.”

“In more ways than one,” Root said under her breath and continued typing.

The utterance didn't get past Jamie, but she chose to ignore it for the moment, “Tomas is a good thief. Small time heists, jewelry and the like, but he couldn't do what we're about to do.” Jamie paused picking up her tea, “And he's a mediocre sommelier at best.”

“We?” Shaw turned fully toward Jamie and moved closer to the couch where Root was sitting.

“You want Cardozo, I need a hacker and an extra gun,” Jamie held Shaw's eyes without an unwavering confidence, “Samantha can be both or you may assist her.”

“And if we refuse?” Shaw asked, crossing her arms.

“I sense that Samantha has neglected to inform you that when we last saw each other, before our run in on the street a few weeks ago, she was absconding with my yacht and more importantly twenty million dollars in various currencies and antiquities.”

“You got your yacht back,” Root looked over the laptop screen at Jamie. “And about ten million in old furniture.”

Jamie knew that Root was trying to get under her skin. She had a tendency to do that when the situations that weren't going the way she wanted. She would deliberately simplify things that irked Jamie. She would devalue things that Jamie held dear. It used to infuriate Jamie. But it was something she expected. She looked over at Root. “What do you say, Darling? One more job?”

Root clenched her jaw. Jamie calling her darling had always done things to her that Root hated. It made her soft. It made her weak in the knees. Fortunately it was something Root was expecting as well. “One more job and we get Cardozo.”

“Good,” Jamie stood. “If you'll follow me, you have a particular set of skills that I need in finding out information.”

Root frowned and looked at the laptop, “I have a computer right here.”

“You may have forgotten,” Jamie started walking toward the door, “But you have another particular, very valuable skill set.”

Root and Shaw followed Jamie to the elevator. They rode it down to the ground floor and walked out to a waiting town car.

“What skill set?” Shaw finally asked.

“Samantha can get information out of anyone,” Jamie answered. She stood to the side and let Root and Shaw get in. Shaw made a point to sit directly next to Root so that Jamie had to sit across from them. A burly man in a suit closed the door and got in the driver's seat.

“So your love of tasing people started before me?” Shaw asked Root.

Root smiled, “If it makes you feel better, I have the most fun tasing you.”

Jamie rolled her eyes and got out a bottle of sparkling water from the bin against the wall of the car. She looked out the window and watched the city start to move by them.

“So Jamie,” Root started, “Where is-” She stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes scanned around them and suddenly the grabbed both Jamie and Shaw, pulling them to the floor of the car. A second later, bullets started whizzing overhead, shattering the windows in the car, raining glass down on top of them.

Another car slammed into theirs, forcing their cars sideways. Root yelled, “Hold on!” over the sound of screeching tires. She grabbed Shaw's shirt and pulled her close as the car slammed into a fire hydrant, crumpling the space where Shaw's head used to be and flipping over.

The car came to a rest on it's roof. Shaw pulled back from Root to look her over, “You okay?”

Root nodded. She looked Shaw over and didn't see anything visibly wrong, “They're coming.”

Shaw looked around and found her gun laying on the roof of the car in the midst of broken glass. Water was spraying over them, leaking through the floor of the car. Shaw shimmied out of the car and saw who Root was talking about. She started firing and called, “C'mon Root. We gotta go.”

“Jamie?” Root turned to her other side and saw the blonde look up at her. “We have to go.”

Jamie nodded slowly and followed Root out the crumpled window of the car. Shaw kept shooting as she helped Root to her feet. Root turned and helped Jamie. Then she pulled Shaw, “C'mon, Sam. We have to get out of here.” Root ducked her head and saw that the driver had been taken out by the bullets.

Shaw sent a few more bullets flying away. Root drug Jamie away from the car accident by her hand with Shaw close behind them.

“Where are we going?” Shaw asked Root.

Root turned down an alley and opened a faded blue metal door. She ushered the two women into the back of the empty office building. Root walked through the office and pulled out a gun, “Cardozo wasn't our number.”

“What?” Shaw asked, walking through the empty empty office toward the front door.

“How do you save a number that doesn't have a number?” Root asked, unlocking the front door and stepping out onto a street. She turned back toward the door when police cars went speeding down the street where they left the upturned car. When they passed by, Root started walking away from it.

“Root, remember that time we talked about speaking in riddles?” Shaw swiftly followed Root and Jamie down the street.

Root continued walking down the street and grabbed the closing security door of a building they were walking past. She gestured the two women inside. “Up the stairs.”

Shaw immediately turned right and went up the stairs. Jamie followed her and Root brought up the rear.

“Third floor,” Root looked behind them.

Shaw led them to the third floor. Root pointed Shaw toward a door. Shaw found it unlocked and opened it. Root and Jamie walked in, followed by Shaw who closed and locked the door behind them. Root went to the window and looked out of it. The she turned to the other two women.

The apartment they were in was empty, save for a faded poster on the wall. Shaw pushed off of the door and tucked her gun away, “Alright Root. Explain. When is a number not a number or whatever.”

“Jamie, would you like to explain what you initially hired me to do?” Root asked, walking to the kitchen of the apartment, leaving Jamie and Shaw alone in the living room.

Jamie crossed her arms and looked at Shaw, “I needed to disappear. I needed a hacker to make me a ghost.”

“Jamie Moriarty has ever had a visa, social security number, driver's license number or any other kind of governmental identification,” Root walked back into the living room with a plate. “At least not the Jamie Moriarty that I created.”

“So she's really our number?” Shaw asked.

Root nodded. “And it's really anyone's best guess as to who wants to kill her. Right Jamie?”

“What is a number?” Jamie asked, her eyes firmly on Root, “Who told you to save me?”

Root twirled an old metal spatula between her fingers and leaned back on the windowsill in the small living room, “You used to refer to Her as my white whale.”

Jamie looked down at the ground and then slowly her eyes rose to Root with a thoughtful look on her face, “An artificial super intelligence.”

“She is very real,” Root answered with an arrogant grin, “And very powerful.”

“And she told you to save me?” Jamie asked.

Root nodded, “My newfound humanity you spoke of earlier? She taught me.” Root looked dreamily out the window.

“You're bleeding,” Shaw stated evenly. She made powerful strides toward Root and lifted up the back of her shirt.

“So are you,” Root answered, not moving, “So is Jamie.”

“Hers is a laceration from glass,” Shaw answered, poking around Root's wound, “Mine is minor swelling from the impact. You,” she lowered her head and got a better look, “Have a ricocheted bullet in your back.”

Jamie looked down at her arm. Her shoulder was starting to bleed through her shirt. She hadn't noticed before because of the adrenaline of the car accident.

“This is just a pit stop,” Root looked over her shoulder at Shaw, “We can play doctor all you want when we get there.”

“Get where?” Jamie asked.

“You'll learn to stop asking that,” Shaw told Jamie and let go of Roots shirt. She took her gun back out. She checked how many bullets were left in the magazine.

Root turned around, “But first, we have to get up to the roof.” She went to the window and looked out. When a police car drove by, she heaved open the window, jammed the spatula between the window and the frame to keep it open. She swung her leg out over her sill, “Up we go.”

They used the fire escape to get to the roof and then stepped over to the next building's roof. After using the stairs to descend into ground floor. They walked a few blocks to a residential block and then into an alley.

Jamie looked up at the house Shaw was picking the lock of. “Do you know who owns this brownstone?”

“I do,” Root answered, “The Machine wanted us to come here. There's something we need.”

The lock clicked back and Shaw pushed open the door. 

Root and Jamie walked into the house. Jamie listened for any sounds, but found none. No one was home. Root walked straight to the kitchen and opened the bottom drawer. She pulled out a leather pouch and tossed it to Shaw, “You mind taking this bullet out of my back?”

Shaw opened the bag and found surgical instruments, all in sterile packaging. She looked around wondering how the Machine knew what was in the house. She spotted three cameras from the threshold of the kitchen leading to a living room. “What kind of raging paranoid lives here?”

“A reasonably paranoid one,” Jamie leaned on the wall next to the back door, “Considering a man died on his living room floor.”

“You've been having fun without me, Jamie?” Root took off her shirt and leaned forward on the counter.

Shaw pulled a chair up behind Root and opened the surgical instruments.

“He was your white whale,” Root winced slightly when Shaw reached into her flesh to dig out the bullet.

Jamie tilted her head before moving to the stove to start the kettle, “Your machine told you that?”

“Your face did,” Root moved her hair to make sure that it wasn't in Shaw's way.

The front door opened and there was some movement. “Sherlock?”

Joan stepped into the living room to find herself at gunpoint. Shaw was pointing a gun at her with a bloody bullet in her other hand. Jamie Moriarty was making tea in her kitchen.

“Would like you some tea?” Jamie asked nonchalantly, “It seems the only thing you have is chamomile and silver leaf at the moment.”

Joan gestured to the bag over her shoulder, “I got some more tea.”

“Put your gun down, Sam,” Root told her. “Sew me up so we can get out of here. She's who we needed.”

“You need me for what?” Joan asked, walking into the kitchen.

“It seems that I am in some sort of mortal danger and these two have come to rescue me under the order of an artificial super intelligence,” Jamie explained like it was the most natural thing in the world, “Would you like honey with your tea?”

Joan put the grocery bag down on the table and took a moment to process everything. “Artificial super intelligence?”

Shaw picked up the suture kit and threaded the needle, “It's not one of those things that sounds more normal the more you say it.” She started sewing up Root's back.

“Don't you want some painkillers for that?” Joan moved toward Root and Shaw, watching the impeccable technique Shaw was showcasing.

“I may have picked up a slight amphetamine addiction while being tortured by a government operative,” Root closed her eyes, “But this isn't a new feeling.”

“I can see that,” Joan looked over the scars littering Root's bare back.

“Control did love her sixties torture techniques,” Shaw finished up the stitches. She started to reach for a gauze pad, but Joan was already handing it to her.

“Nice stitch pattern,” Joan told Shaw, “Where did you do your surgical rotation?”

“New York Gen,” Shaw answered. She figured the tools she was using where Joan so she asked that same question back.

“St. David's,” Joan answered. She picked up the used instruments and started to walk them to the sink when she saw Jamie waver. Root was at her side before anyone else could move. She looked Jamie over. “You were going to suffer in silence, weren't you Jamie?” She gestured to the table, “Lay down. We'll get the glass out.”

Jamie allowed Root to take off her shirt and then remove her shoes and pants. She laid down on the table, still modestly in her underwear. It was then that Shaw and Joan saw the gash in her leg that was spilling blood.

“She's going to need blood,” Shaw grabbed another set of gloves out of the box.

Root pulled on her shirt and rolled up her sleeve, “Universal donor.” She kicked a chair toward the table and sat down so that she could give blood to Jamie.

Shaw looked at Root, checking to see if she was sure. Root held Shaw's eyes and nodded.

Once Joan was working on sewing up the gash, Root was giving blood, and Shaw was picking small shards of glass out of Jamie's forearm, Root looked leaned back in her chair, “You're loving this aren't you, Jamie? Three people that have a blatant distaste for you all having to work to save your life.”

Jamie turned her head to the side and placed her hand behind her head, “Only one person in this room has a blatant distaste for me and I have a feeling she would do anything you asked her to, including saving my life.”

Shaw looked over Jamie's shoulder to Root. They shared an annoyed eye contact. Root just shrugged and ran a hand through her hair.

“If I recall,” Joan interrupted the tense silence when she was done sewing up Jamie's leg, “The two of you date for three years-”

“On and off,” Root clarified.

Joan nodded, “I just wonder how someone with such a fleeting interest in people settles into a relationship of that length.” She peeled off her gloves.

Shaw fashioned a sling for Jamie with a kitchen towel so that her the wounds on her shoulder wouldn't open up again. Once it was situated on the blonde, she moved to Root and handed her tweezers. She sat down on the floor and placed her arm across Root's lap so that Root could extract the glass that had embedded itself in her skin.

Root leaned over and started picking out glass, dropping it onto the floor. Joan grabbed a bowl by the sink and put it on the floor next to Root, hoping that the other woman would put the glass in there instead of on the floor where she walked in her bare feet most mornings.

“Samantha posed a different set of challenges that most people,” Jamie closed her eyes and slipped back into the days she spend with her Samantha. “Intelligent, ruthless, a woman who saw the whole world, in her own words, as bad code. It was a fascinating combination of characteristics. Someone who craved a place to belong, but had already written off the entire planet as unworthy. Someone who craved affection, but only from people she is sure cannot reciprocate. The Samantha Groves I knew was a paradox of polar opposites, yet someone who managed to function flawless in a world she manipulated with perfect ease.”

Shaw looked up at Root, checking to see how she was handling being psychoanalyzed out loud. Root took a long deep breath, but didn't stop picking glass out of Shaw's arm. Root even tugged at Shaw's sleeve, “You have to take off your shirt, Sweetie.” Root looked toward Jamie and breathed out, “The sex wasn't too bad either.”

That shut up everyone in the room for a good two minutes. Joan broke the silence again, “And you two just grew in different directions?”

“I was sure she was becoming increasingly delusional,” Jamie finally opened her eyes and looked toward Root who was aware of her gaze, but refused to reciprocate. “Obsessed with a ASI that couldn't exist.”

“I was no longer your lap dog and you couldn't control me anymore,” Root answered coldly, leaning close to Shaw's shoulder, carefully pulling out the remnants of the town car. “So you thought I was losing my mind.”

“Then you stole a massive quantity of money from me,” Jamie added, “And I never saw you again.”

“You didn't try to find me,” Root shook her head. She ran the back of her fingers across Shaw's skin feeling for more glass. When she didn't feel any, she dropped the tweezers into the bowl she was dropping the glass into. She stood up and pulled the IV out of her arm, “We have to move.”

Joan removed the IV from Jamie and put a bandage over her arm where it was.

Root led the way out the front door. Joan joined the small band of the traveling wounded, despite Root's assurance that her presence didn't matter either way.

Shaw could tell that Root was on edge and she wasn't sure what to do about it. She had see the chipper psycho and the depressed woman without the Machine in her ear before. But she didn't know what to think of the woman in front of her. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen Root that angry.

They walked toward the river and out on to an abandoned dock. All eyes were on Root as she put her phone to her ear. She set her jaw and turned away from the other three as she spoke, “You want Moriarty? I have her. Hudson Boat Storage.”

Jamie's eyes widened as Root hung up and turned toward them. She tried to hide her shock, “I was sure petty revenge was beneath you.”

“You overestimated how much I've changed,” Root pulled a gun out of the back of her pants.

Jamie shook her head, “You left me.”

“You were done with me,” Root shrugged. She smiled a manic smile. “It doesn't matter though. I found what I was looking for.” She shook her head at Jamie, “You never did. And you never will.” Root took a step toward Jamie and then another one. She leaned in close to Jamie's face, “You have to admit though, when it was good it was-”

“Magnificent,” Jamie whispered. She heard a car skid to a stop in the nearby parking lot. “I don't suppose reasoning with you would work at this point.”

“Did it ever?” Root asked.

“You know that the people that are out to kill me aren't going to hesitate to dispose of you and your friend,” Jamie looked straight into Root's eyes.

Root listened to the footstep behind herself, “I know.” She swiftly moved her gun up, pointing behind herself. She squeezed off three shots and Shaw quickly followed with four more. Five men lay bleeding on the ground near the edge of the dock. Root stepped away from Jamie and walked to the closest one. She dug his keys out of his coat.

“Get out of the country Jamie,” Root told Jamie cooly, moving back toward her, “I hear Sao Paulo is nice this time of the year.” She offered Jamie the keys.

“I may,” Jamie answered, taking the keys.

Root shook her head, “You won't.”

Jamie leaned forward slightly and brushed her lips against Root's. Root sighed softly into the kiss, never sure if Jamie's kisses were genuine or manipulative.

Root took a step back and looked at Jamie, “I'd say we're even now.”

Jamie nodded, “We are.”

Root put her hands in her pockets and turned toward the land. Shaw fell into step next to her. They disappeared down the street and around a corner.

Jamie looked at Joan, then started walking, “I'll drop you at home.”

Joan curiously looked from Jamie to the buildings around them, “Are you going to see her again?”

Jamie looked down at the key in her hand with a smirk on her face, “Most certainly.”

 


	29. Chapter 29

Shaw slowly opened her eyes. She wasn't sure what to expect. She had some reservations about sleeping with Root. It had obviously been something that had been building between them and the explosion didn't disappoint. Shaw could see a torn shirt hanging onto the window latch. She had ripped through Root's clothes like paper and Root was swift and stealthy, snatching Shaw's clothes off before she could tell what was happening.

Shaw looked down and found that she was still completely naked. She also realized she was alone in the bed. She was sure that Root would respect her enough to not push her into cuddling or something like that. Shaw was a little relived to be alone.

She could hear talking down the hallway, but more importantly than the sounds was the smells. She could smell breakfast. She could smell bacon and toast. She laid back into the bed and let a small smile grace her lips.

Shaw slipped out of the bed and went to the drawer closest to the bed. She found a draw full of neatly stacked boxes of computer parts and wires. The next draw was full of handguns that had no serial number with a stack of suppressors. She had more luck with the next drawers. She picked out a grey tank top and pulled it on. Then she grabbed some black athletic pants. They drug the ground a little, but Shaw didn't mind as she made her way to the bathroom.

When she emerged, she started the walk down the hallway. The closer she got the more she could hear what Root was saying. She let out a laugh and continued speaking fluent Japanese. Shaw stepped into the kitchen and found a single plate set at the small table in Root's kitchen. Root was wearing her underwear and loose white tank top. She picked up a pan off of the stove and used a spatula to move the bacon to the plate at the table. She switched pans and slid some eggs straight onto the plate while carrying on her conversation.

Shaw slowly moved into the kitchen so that Root could see her. Root spotted her and smiled, gesturing to the table before answering whoever she was talking to about whatever they were talking about. She laughed and moved to the other side of the kitchen. She spoke while she opened the refrigerator, got out some orange juice and opened the cupboard. She retrieved a glass and a mug in one hand. She poured some orange juice into the glass and set it in front of Shaw. The she got coffee out of the coffee pot and placed it on front of her too.

The last pan on the stove was lifted and Root spooned fried potatoes onto Shaw's plate. She placed the pan into the sink and then leaned on the counter. She said something serious slowly and gradually moving into a lighter tone meaning that she was threatening someone.

Shaw picked up a piece of bacon and started eating, watching Root move around the kitchen. She turned off all the burners and moved toward the bedroom, leaving Shaw alone.

Shaw kept eating, wondering who Root was talking too. She checked her phone and saw a message from Reese asking her to meet in a few hours for a number. Shaw messaged back with one hand while shoveling food into her mouth with the other.

The sound of heels coming back toward her, made Shaw look up. Root was fully dressed, in black pants, a patterned shirt, and black jacket. As she walked, she check the magazine of a handgun before jamming it back into the gun. She tucked it into the back of her pants and said goodbye to whoever she was talking too.

Root got down a travel mug and poured some coffee into it, “I hope you like your eggs. I wasn't sure I was getting them right.”

“They're good,” Shaw answered with a mouthful.

Root turned around and smiled, “Good.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a key, “Stay as long as you want, lock up when you leave, and feel free to come back if you ever want to do that again.” She placed the key on the table and walked out the front door.

Shaw waited until she finished breakfast to call Root.

“Hey Sameen.”

“I'll be back about midnight tonight,” Shaw stated.

Root grinned, “Then I'll buy more bacon.”

“You need backup?” Shaw added, starting to stack her plates.

“No thanks. I got this one,” Root continued walking toward her destination, “And leave the dishes. The maid comes at noon.”

Shaw looked at the empty dishes and glasses on the table. She nodded and stood up, “Alright. See you later.”

“Bye Sweetie.”


	30. Chapter 30

Shaw heard the door open to the room she was being kept in. She was kept heavily sedated, but she had enough faculties that she was handcuffed to the bed as an extra precaution. Her room was kept dark and the light behind the door was bright so she couldn't immediately see who had come to visit her.

She heard a soft sigh as the door swung shut revealing her visitor. There were tears in Root's eyes when she came into focus.

Shaw quickly sat up, her arm catching on the short length of chain holding her to the bed, “How'd they catch you?”

Root brought her cuffed hands to her face to wipe away her tears, “You're alive. I knew you were.”

“Root,” Shaw sat up as much as she could. “What's going on?”

Root swallowed and looked over Shaw's face. She shook her head, “Don't worry about it.” Root looked behind herself and saw a man waiting just inside the door. She jerked her head toward Shaw.

He walked to the bed and uncuffed Shaw. “Time to go.”

Shaw slid out of the bed and found her leg weak from being stationary. Root moved to her side and helped her walk the first few steps. Root stayed close to Shaw, acting as her crutch as she limped to the door.

“What's going on, Root?” Shaw asked, leaning close to Root.

“You're leaving,” Root answered. She dipped her head down, “John is on his way.”

Shaw moved with Root down the long hallway with the man behind them. “What about you?”

Root looked down at Shaw with a slight smile. She turned so that her back to open the door. It opened up to an overcast sky and an empty parking lot. She stood in place and let Shaw step out first.

“Root,” Shaw stopped right outside the door.

Root looked at Shaw with a sad smile, “Bear is waiting for you.”

Shaw looked behind Root at the man standing behind her. She clenched her fists, but Root stopped her. She put her hands on Shaw's chest to stop her, “It has to happen like this.”

“Like what?” Shaw searched Root's face.

A car screeched to a stop behind Shaw. Reese jumped from the driver's seat and started walking toward the door.

“C'mon,” Shaw took Root's hands, pulling her toward the car.

Root grabbed onto Shaw's shirt and pulled her into a kiss. Root desperately held onto the kiss for as long as she could before she pushed Shaw away. She stumbled backwards and only regained her balance as the door clicked closed between her and Root.

“Root!” Shaw yelled running at the door. She grabbed onto the handle and found it locked.

“Shaw we have to go,” Reese walked up to her and looked behind himself. Another car pulled around the corner, men sticking out of the windows, firing shots at them.

Shaw had no choice, but to run for the car. She found an automatic pistol in the seat and started firing back. Reese sped off turning around to drive back through a broken security checkpoint that he ignored on her way in.

“We have to go back,” Shaw told Reese, looking out the window, seeing that they were no longer being tailed through a winding country road.

“I don't think -” Reese started speaking, but he stopped when a gun was pointed at his head.

“Go back now,” Shaw ordered, finding a bag of her clothes in the backseat. She pulled on her boots and

Reese did as he was told, parking on top of the skid marks he made rescuing Shaw. She was out of the car before it was fully stopped.

She shot through the window next to the door and stepped into the hallway. Shaw started running through the hallway and saw that the door to the room she was kept in was open. After peeking inside to make sure no one was in there, she turned down the only other hallway left, leading to the left of her former prison.

Reese followed Shaw down the hallway. They kicked in doors, finding other rooms similar to Shaw's, but all completely empty.

Finally they reached the end of the hallway and both kicked in the door together. The sound of the doors slamming against the wall next to them echoes through an empty loading bay. All the bay doors were open, the wind blowing the humid stormy air in.

Shaw turned around and stormed back toward the car, “Whose stupid idea was this?”

“Root sent me a message two minutes before I drove up,” Reese answered pulling out his phone.

Shaw snatched it out of his hand and called Root. There was no answer so she called again. She called again as she sat down in the driver's seat of the car. When there was no answer, she handed Reese the phone, “Where'd they take her?”

Reese shook his head, “I didn't know anything about this rescue until Root messaged me. This looks like a mobile black site.”

“They knocked me out each time they moved me, but as far as I can tell, I've been moved three times,” Shaw set her jaw and focused hard on the tree lined road, “They couldn't have gotten far.”

Reese wanted to tell Shaw that he was happy she was okay. He also wanted to tell her that he was sure Root wouldn't have gone into something like that without an exit plan. However, he thought that she actually might had walked into the belly of the beast without ever dreaming that she'd make it out alive. Root had gotten desperate over the past few days. She had gotten reckless.

They drove for a few minutes finding themselves on the outskirts of a small town. When she realized driving aimlessly wasn't going to help, Shaw pulled over. She took Reese's phone and looked at a map of the area trying to figure out where Root was taken. The longer the looked at the map, the more she realized that there were roads leaving away from the black site that branched out into more road that branched out to more roads.

“Let's go talk to Finch,” Reese told Shaw, “We'll figure out where they took Root.”

“Yeah, okay,” Shaw nodded. She looked over at Reese and nodded to the gas station they had stopped at, “Go get me something to eat, will ya?”

Reese opened the door to the car and stepped out, figuring that Shaw wasn't fed well while she was being held captive. He got halfway to the gas station when he heard tires squeal. He turned around in time to see his car barely avoid a collision as it reentered the road and sped away.  


	31. Chapter 31

Root was used to being alone. The last of her family died off with her mother over a decade ago. People were generally uninteresting to her and she could never be bothered with fake niceties to keep them around as companions.

She moved a lot which wasn't conducive to forming close relationships and she traveled too much to ever really even meet the neighbors at her constantly changing apartments.

So when another birthday rolled around, there was no one to surprise her with a present or even really know that there was a birthday that was had. But it was okay because the Machine had told her that there were no foreseeable numbers in the next two days so Root decided to treat herself on her birthday.

The day of, Root slept in. The only furniture in her bedroom was a bed, sitting haphazard and crooked in the middle of the room. The light from the old windows laid across the blankets, warming her. It was one of the most pleasant ways Root could think of to wake up.

She laid in bed to let her body gradually rise out of sleep. Then she slowly got out of bed, stretching every muscle that she had. She lazily put her hair up in a messy bun as she walked to the kitchen. She leaned on her kitchen counter as the tea brewed. She was going to have to leave her apartment to have breakfast, but she wasn't ready to leave the quiet safety of her apartment yet.

She looked over her shoulder and saw the light from the windows, pouring into her living room on the old couch that served at the staple of the living room since it was the only piece of furniture there. The Machine may have not been programmed to care, but it did. It always made sure that Root had some pieces of furniture that she liked in her apartments.

The Machine had been silent all night and all morning. Normally it was something that would trouble Root, but she was thankful for the quiet she was experiencing. The last few weeks had been hectic. The last few days even more so. It was a mad dash to save over fifty people. There were times that every single person on Team Machine was out on a different mission.

Root rolled her neck, knowing only one thing that would make her morning more perfect. When her tea was done, she poured herself a mug and walked into the bathroom. She pressed play on the music dock sitting next to the sink. It started playing soft acoustic music that she slowly bobbed her head to as she started the hot water to filling up her clawfoot bathtub.

She sipped her tea with a content smile. She wasn't someone that needed people around her. She was someone that recharged when she was alone. She was the person on the team that worked alone the most and Root was happy that was how it was. It didn't mean that she didn't love her team. They all worked well together, the misfit group of broken toys.

She just never felt anyone took the time to understand her. Not that she ever reciprocated the effort. She had stopped trying to understand the world around her and started letting it happen. She saved who she was supposed to save because she found something that did try to understand her.

Root went to her sink and opened the medicine cabinet. She got out some bath minerals and things that smelled nice. She smiled when she used them because they were wantonly thrown into her bag by a beauty counter worker who hated her job. Shaw did all she could to piss off her boss without getting fired when she worked in retail hell, which included giving away an obscene amount of free samples. Both times Root went to check on her, Shaw shoved bags of tiny samples at her when she knew her boss was watching. Root reciprocated by buying enough product to keep Shaw out of trouble.

Once the water was bubbling and smelling like heaven, Root slipped out of her clothes and stepped into the bathtub. She held onto the sides and slowly lowered herself into the steaming bath. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back, letting the water overtake her shoulders.

The music and the water slowly drew out all of the tension in her body. Root sipped her tea and set it down on the ground next to the tub.

Root slowly picked her hand up out of the water and reached down between the tub and the wall. She pulled the gun off the side of the tub where she'd taped it a few days ago. She made sure the suppressor was secured then pointed it at her bathroom door. She shot twice, hitting the wall on the right.

She was surprised when someone stepped from the left side of the bathroom door. The Machine had told her that her intruder was to the right. There was a gun pointed at her only to be lowered a second later. “What the hell?” Shaw asked, realizing that Root was not a two hundred and fifty pound arsonist.

Root put the safety on her gun and placed it next to her tea, “Hello Sameen.”

“What's going on?” Shaw pocketed her gun and stood in the doorway.

Root was keenly aware of exactly how naked she was at that very moment. Shaw didn't seem to notice though. “I don't know. You're the one that broke into my apartment.” She laid her head back and closed her eyes. If Shaw wasn't going to be weird about the naked thing, Root wasn't going to be either.

Shaw went over everything that had happened that morning in her head, “Can you ask the Machine what the hell?”

Root opened one eye and then another, “The Machine sent you here.”

“Indirectly,” Shaw shrugged. She looked around the bathroom. The drywall was crumbling in places, exposing the wooden frame, “This is where you live?”

“For now,” Root answered, lulling her head to the side, “The Machine hasn't said anything to me all morning so I don't know why you're here unless you're my birthday stripper.”

Shaw rolled her eyes before picking up the most interesting part of that sentence, “It's your birthday?”

Root nodded, “Although I've had so many fake ones, I almost forgot myself.” She looked Shaw over, “If you'll give me another hour or so, I'll come help you find whoever you thought lived here.”

Shaw shook her head, “No. Don't worry about it.” She licked her lips and turned toward the door, “I'll-uh...” She turned back around, “Do you... want something for your birthday? Like a present or a...party?”

Root smiled. She shook her head, “I don't need anything. Thank you.”

“Alright,” Shaw nodded, “I'll see you later.” She turned and awkwardly walked out the bathroom door.

Root heard the front door open and close. She sunk back down into the water. She smiled to herself. Shaw even offering to get her something was the sweetest thing she could think of because it meant that Shaw cared. She wanted to followed the normally ignored traditions in case it would make Root happy.

When the water got cold, Root got out of her bath. She wrapped a towel around herself and moved to her bedroom where her clothes hung in her closet. She didn't have an armoire or a dresser so things that couldn't be hug were in the duffel bag on the closet floor.

She didn't bother getting dressed up. It was her birthday. She was just going to lounge around and read or do some hacking for fun. Once she was in cotton shorts and a loose tank top, she moved back to the kitchen hoping she could scrounge up something for breakfast.

“Um, I got donuts.”

Root jumped and placed a hand over her racing heart. She turned to find Shaw standing in her living room with a pink box in her hand. Root let out a relieved smile that morphed into a delighted one. “You didn't have to.”

“Yeah well, since the Machine is making you live in an apartment that's falling apart and it's really depressing in here,” Shaw shrugged and flipped open the lid to offer one to Root.

Root picked up a donut and took a bite, “Thank you, Sam.”

Shaw nodded. She got a donut herself and looked around the apartment, “There's no furniture in here.”

“I don't need it,” Root leaned on the large open threshold from the living room to the kitchen.

Shaw stopped finished her donut and got out another one, “You always get to live in nice places like this?”

Root smiled, looking around her run down apartment. It was old, but she kind of liked it. It had character, “There's a fireplace.” She gestured to the grand fireplace next to the couch that she had never once used

“You're gonna come home someday and a raccoon is going to have crawled down that thing,” Shaw commented. She looked up, “The moldings are nice though.”

“They are,” Root nodded in agreement, finishing her donut. “Do you want something to drink? I have tea. I can make coffee.”

“No,” Shaw shook her head, “I should get going.” She put her hands in her pockets, “But, uh, happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” Root looked affectionately at Shaw, who nodded and walked out the door.

Root closed her eyes and smiled, resting her head on the wall next to her. If anything could ever solidify that Shaw cared for her, it was Shaw scaring the crap out of her to bring her birthday donuts from the bakery down the street. She sighed happily and pushed off of the wall. Best birthday ever.


	32. Chapter 32

Shaw had been technically dead a few times and she was wishing that another one of those times would come around soon because having the flu was the worst possible thing she could think of. Her body ached, she couldn't eat, she was always somehow hot and cold at the same time.

It was stupid. She was a trained medical professional and she got the flu.

“That's the last time I rescue a kindergarten teacher,” Shaw growled in her bed. She knew that she needed to eat. She also knew that there wasn't anything in her apartment to eat. Additionally, she was way to sick to go out in public.

Shaw picked up her phone, not even having the energy to find her earpiece. Her vision was a little blurry she she wasn't exactly sure who she called. She just needed one person from the team to bring her something – anything – to eat.

“Shaw,” Reese answered.

“Hey, you busy?” Shaw asked.

Reese returned gunfire with his window down as the car he was in was speeding down the highway, “A little. What's going on?”

“I don't have any food,” Shaw whined.

Reese smiled a little to himself. He had seen the toughest people he knew turn into big babies when they were sick. It was apparent that Shaw was no exception. “Why don't you call Root?”

“Shouldn't she already know that I'm sick?” Shaw asked back. “The Machine should have sent her over yesterday.”

“Or you could have called me,” Root entered the conversation. She grabbed onto John's belt to keep him in the car as she swerved down a small road, “I'll be there in half an hour.”

Shaw didn't have the energy to protest. She barely had the energy to press the end button on her phone. She didn't care who was coming, she just needed food. She laid down on her bed and closed her eyes. She was just going to rest until Root arrived.

Of course resting involved a very long nap. When she woke up, she could hear the soft clicking of laptop keys and a smell that made her stomach growl. She opened her eyes and looked around her bedroom as much as she could without moving her body.

Root was sitting at the table by the window on her computer. She paused to think and then resumed typing.

“Food,” Shaw grunted.

Root turned her head toward Shaw with a smile. “Coming up.” She stood and moved to the kitchen stove. After making sure that nothing was going to explode, she had used the stove to make soup from scratch. Luckily, the longer it stayed on the stove the better it was going to taste. She had arrived in a little more than thirty minutes and found Shaw sound asleep. So she sat at the table where she'd been for the last three hours.

Root spooned some soup into a bowl and carefully walked it over to the bed. She sat down facing her head of the bed. Her voice was soft and soothing when she asked, “Can you sit up?” Root started arranging the pillows that Shaw wasn't laying on in a pile so that she could sit up and lay back on them.

Shaw hefted herself up and slowly rolled backwards onto the pillows that Root arranged for her. Root held the bowl of soup and offered her a spoon. Shaw took the spoon and leaned forward, “What is this?”

“The most likely combination of vegetables and herbs that will make you feel better,” Root answered, “Recipe courtesy of The Machine.”

Shaw took a bite and was relieved that it tasted good. She dropped the spoon on the bed and took the bowl from Root. She took long sips of the soup and picked the vegetables out, popping them into her mouth.

Root watched Shaw affectionately until Shaw looked at her. She stood up from the bed and walked toward the back of the apartment. She opened the door to a small cove where Shaw's washing machine was. She took a laundry basket off of the top of the dryer and got out the clothes she had already washed. Then she moved the clothes in the washer to the dryer.

“What are you doing?” Shaw asked, putting her empty bowl on the bed next to her and flopping back down.

“Studies show that patients recover more quickly in clean environments,” Root moved with the clean clothes to the table her computer was on by the window. She set the basket down in one of the chairs and folded the clothes on the table, “I'm sure you already knew that, Dr. Shaw.”

“Don't you have a number to save?” Shaw groaned, admittedly feeling better after she ate.

Root continued folding clothes, “Yeah, you. And I have already saved three numbers today.”

Shaw huffed, “Showoff.” She closed her eyes and shivered. She pulled her blankets over her shoulders.

After the clothes were put away, Root rearranged some things in the refrigerator and managed to fit the pot of soup in it. “You should probably take a shower.”

“Do studies show that it'll make me feel better?” Shaw sarcastically quipped.

Root grinned, “No, but you're starting to attract flies.”

If Shaw felt like she could turn her head to glare at Root, she would have. But the more she thought about it, the more a shower sounded heavenly. The progression to the shower was slow and slightly pathetic. Root shook her head from the other side of the room.

Once all the clean clothes were put away, Root sat back down at her computer. It was short lived though because a minute later a weak, “Root!” came from the bathroom.

Root grabbed a clean towel out of the dryer and opened the door to the bathroom only enough to stick the towel in it. Shaw took the towel and Root retreated out of the bathroom, closing the door.

Shaw wandered out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body. She shuffled to the bed and flopped down onto it, shimmying under the covers. She pushed the wet towel off of the bed before closed her eyes.

Root sighed, picking up the wet towel and taking it to the bathroom to hang up. She moved back to her computer and closed it. It was time to leave. “As much fun as it is to sit around here and watched you be a baby, I have to save someone.”

“Root,” Shaw called into her pillow. “C'mere.”

Root walked over to the bed and sat down next to Shaw. “Yes, sweetie?”

Shaw grabbed onto the front of Root's shirt and pulled her into a kiss. It stunned Root completely and she still couldn't quite believe what was happening even after Shaw had collapsed on the bed again. Before she could ask what it was for, Shaw added, “We'll see who's a baby when you get the flu.”

Root rolled her eyes and stood up off of the bed. “Call me if you need anything Sameen.”

Shaw didn't answer in English. It was a series of grunts and growls that were meant to convey agreement. Root grabbed her bag and moved to the door. She looked over Shaw once more, turned off the light, then stepped out of the apartment shaking her head, “What a baby.”


	33. Chapter 33

“This better be good, Root. I’m starving,” Shaw put her hands in her pockets as she walked around Central Park.

Root heard Shaw complain in her ear. She smiled to herself leaned forward, adjusting the blanket in the stroller. She was sitting on a bench under the trees, a dark blue stroller pointing at her, “I am well aware of the last time you ate.”

“Then you’ll know I haven’t slept in just as long and I don’t have time for games,” Shaw kept walking along the sidewalk, “Where have you been anyway? You disappear for almost a month and you want me to meet you in the park?”

“Just keep walking, Sameen,” Root answered, watching dutifully around her for Shaw.

Shaw huffed, “Seriously, I’m starving. I was held captive for almost forty hours. I just got back into town. I’m going to stop and get a hot dog.”

“Shaw,” Root leaned back on the bench and ran a hand through her hair, “It’s important.”

Shaw rolled her eyes, but kept walking past the hot dog vendor. “This better be good.” She spotted Root sitting at a bench a few yards away, “Oh my god, Root. Did you steal a baby?”

Root turned her head toward Shaw with a wicked grin. “I needed a cover to hang out in the park all day and watch the vendor.”

Shaw got within speaking distance and hung up her phone, “Are you serious? You couldn’t have just gotten a newspaper?”

“That would have been boring,” Root gestured to the seat next to her. Shaw sat down and Root reached into the stroller, “So I had a number yesterday. A chef in St. Louis.” Root moved the blanket in the stroller, revealing something that was not a baby. It was a small plastic container. “She was mixed up in some bad stuff and needed to get out of town. I got her a job in town. Then she made you this ten minutes ago.” Root opened the plastic container and handed it to Shaw.

Shaw looked down at the steak in the container. It was hot and juicy.

Root reached into the diaper bag next to her and pulled out a knife from in between her guns. When she turned back to Shaw she saw that it was too late for utensils. She watched Shaw take a bite out of the steak, using her hands to hold it. She let out a small smile, “Sam, are you crying?”

“Shut up,” Shaw took another bite out of the steak and moaned. “Ugh this is so good.”

“Better than sex?” Root asked.

“Better than shooting people,” Shaw aggressively chewed what was in her mouth and took another bite. She hummed and mumbled something about a delicious steak baby.

Root moved the blanket some more. She picked up a bottle of bourbon. She got an empty take away coffee cup and discreetly poured some bourbon in it. She handed it to Shaw and watched her take a sip before going back to mangling the steak.

Root smiled widely and bend forward to see Shaw better, “Those are real tears.”

Shaw glared at Root. With a mouthful she warned, “I will shoot you.” She swallowed, “After I’m done eating.”


	34. Chapter 34

Shaw stood outside of the restaurant with her hands in the pockets of her trousers. She looked at her watch and looked down the street. She tucked same hair behind her ear that had fallen out of her low ponytail.

“Sorry I'm late,” Root appeared behind Shaw, startling the former assassin.

Shaw clenched her fists, “You have _got_ to stop sneaking up on me.”

Root grinned. She moved her clutch from one hand to the other. She straightened out her short, tight dress, “Sorry. I have an irrelevant across the river.”

Shaw looked behind Root toward the water, “Did you steal a boat?”

Root nodded, “So you'll have to excuse my hair.”

“It looks fine,” Shaw looked Root over and found that she looked normal save for the curls in her hair that were more loose than usual because of the wind on the water.

Root looked like she was about to take her words as a compliment so Shaw turned to walk inside. She told the matre'd about her reservation. He smiled politely at her and seated them.

“So,” Root set her clutch down on the table, “Who are we watching?” She looked around subtly, “Waiter? Patron?” She looked out at the beautiful view their table had of the river, “Oh, boat worker?”

“The Machine didn't tell you?” Shaw asked across the table.

Root shook her head and opened the menu, “This isn't my area.”

Before she could ask again why they were at the restaurant, the server walked to their table. “What can I get you ladies?”

“A bottle of the 2010 Dugat Gevery Chamertin,” Shaw answered. As soon as the words came out of her mouth, her fingers moved to rub nervously behind her ear. She turned to Root, “Uh, unless you wanted something else.”

Root was surprised, but shrugged in acceptance of the selection.

The server smiled and nodded, “I'll have that right out.”

“I had no idea you were a wine enthusiast, Sameen,” Root looked over the menu on the table, but kept an eye out to what was happening around them.

“Yeah,” Shaw drummed her fingers on the table twice and then picked up her own menu, “Wine's good.”

Root licked her lips and looked around. “So, this number?”

“Oh yeah,” Shaw looked around and found the most suspicious looking person in the restaurant, “That guy.”

Root looked over her shoulder at a man in an expensive suit having dinner with a woman significantly younger than him. Root nodded, “Okay.”

The server came back with the bottle of wine and poured them both a glass, leaving the bottle on the table. Shaw ordered a steak and Root just told the server to make it two. She picked up her wine and smelled it before taking a sip, “So am I here as backup or am I just a cover?”

Shaw looked at her questioningly so Root added, “If I'm backup I'm not going to drink a lot so it doesn't affect my aim.”

Shaw shook her head, “You're not backup.”

Root took another sip of her wine. “Good. It's been a while since I've had an evening off.” She put her wine down and put her hands around the base of the glass. She looked out the window at the view, “It's a beautiful view.”

“Yeah,” Shaw looked out at the water. “My, um, dad brought my mom here on their first date.”

Root looked down at her hands and smiled, “Your father seems like a romantic.”

“He was,” Shaw looked into her wine and shook her head, “He was a sap.”

Root rested her chin in her hand, smiling softly while she watched Shaw remember her dad. “Did your mom share his romanticism?”

Shaw shook her head. She leaned back in her chair, “My mom tolerated it because my dad loved it and she loved him.” Shaw inhaled and exhaled slowly, “She was a great surgeon.”

“It must run in the family,” Root offered, glancing at the table Shaw had indicated as their mark. “I've had more than my fair share of bullets removed in non-medical environments. It hurts the least when you do it.”

Shaw rolled her eyes. It was a compliment, but only the kind Root could ever give her. “Thanks, Root.”

Root picked up her wine and dangled it between her fingers as she reclined in her chair. She let herself relax in the elegant environment. Her eyes turned to the view once again. She finished off her wine, watching a tub boat motor between the restaurant and the opposite shore.

When she put her empty glass down, Shaw poured more wine into it. Root smiled gratefully, “Thanks.”

“What about your parents?” Shaw asked trying to keep the conversation going.

Root looked sadly down at the table, forcing a smile, “No father to speak of. My mother didn't date much.” She shook her head, shaking out the sad look her mother used to have when she'd sit out on the porch on summer nights. Root buried herself in computers and while her mother retreated inward. “But romance is overrated anyway, right?”

“Right,” Shaw nodded. She tilted her head and looked over at Root. Root looked more tired than usual. “You really haven't gotten a night off in a while, have you?”

Root forced a more convincing smile, “There will always be someone in danger.”

“Look,” Shaw leaned on the table, “I can get your food to-go. You can take the wine and go home.”

“I would never dream of compromising your cover,” Root picked up her wine. “After half this bottle of wine, a steak, and possibly dessert, I will be more than content to go home and go to sleep while you stop that man's killer.”

Shaw looked at the man she told Root was the target, “How do you know he's not going to kill someone?”

Root shrugged and looked at him as well, “Does he look like a killer?”

“You're right,” Shaw conceded as their food arrived.

When the food was set in front of them, there was a lot of hmms and mmms, but not more innate chatter. Shaw finished her steak first because Root seemed determined to take her time. She was enjoying the view over the water and the view across the table too much to rush. The wine was going to her head and she was starting to feel really relaxed.

Once they were done eating, Shaw offered the idea of dessert to Root who was open to the idea of sharing one. She let Shaw pick and a few minutes later they were sharing a large slice of cheesecake.

Shaw poured the last of the bottle of wine into Root's glass after refilling her own. It wasn't her beloved liquor, but it made her smile more easily.

Root put her fork down and looked over her shoulder, “Oh, Sam, your number's gone.”

Shaw just shrugged. She hadn't noticed him leave. She wasn't really paying attention anyway. She had been watching Root. She watched the way Root moved and the way her mouth moved while she was thinking. She studied the way that Root ate her food and drank her wine. She couldn't quite figure out what it was that she attracting her to Root. Usually she could pick it out. A cocky attitude, a smooth talker, a dangerous hand were all things that usually attracted Shaw to people.

And although Root had all of those qualities to some extend, Shaw was sure it was something else that she could really quantify.

“Do you want me to track him for you?” Root asked, curious as to how the ever-sharp Shaw had lost track of her mark.

Shaw shook her head, “He'll be fine for a little while.”

The check came before Root could ask anything else about the man. Shaw paid it and stood up, waiting for Root to stand with her.

Shaw walked Root outside and they walked down the street a little so Shaw could hail a cab. When the cab pulled over, Shaw opened the door for Root. “Thanks for coming.”

Root nodded, having figured out that that man was not an actual number. She smiled at Shaw, “If you ever need a cover again, let me know.”

“I will,” Shaw watched Root get into the car and closed the door behind her.

Shaw put her hands in her pockets after the cab drove off. She wasn't any closer to figuring out what she found attractive about Root or why she sometimes...maybe...could stand to be around her. But she did have a nice time with Root. Maybe she would ask her to be a 'cover' again.


	35. Chapter 35

“I get the handcuffs,” Shaw rattled the chain connecting her and the bench in the underground subway, “But is this really necessary?” She kicked up her foot and gestured to the electronic ankle taser snugly strapped to her ankle.

Root looked up from the desk where she was repairing one of the many, many phones that Reese seemed to go through. She pushed her glasses back up her nose, “Yes. What you were drugged with is basically a truth serum and an inhibition suppressor. You’re basically going to be yourself with an extremely heightened probably to shoot people in the head, instead of the leg.” Root looked back down at the phone and used a precision screw driver to slowly take it apart.

Shaw looked at Root and then looked at the handcuff on her wrist. Shaw only took a second to take off the handcuffs. She stood up, attracting Root’s attention. Root smiled to herself, knowing that Shaw wasn’t going to stay handcuffed long. “There’s a new fridge by the bed with sandwiches in it.”

“Where are the guns?” Shaw asked.

Root swiveled in her chair and watched Shaw go to the short refrigerator she brought into the subway in anticipation of Shaw’s imprisonment. “They’re in the lockers, all electronically locked with a combination that change every second.”

“Wow, you really don’t trust me,” Shaw commented with a mouthful of sandwich.

“I just value my kneecaps,” Root leaned back in her chair and smiled. Root stood up and went into the subway train to get some parts for the phone.

Root was reaching on a high shelf for a new screen when she felt her hair behind brushed away from her neck. Hands rested on her hips, and lips brushed her ear.

“Sam?” Root put her hands down on the workbench she had been leaning over to get the new screen. She leaned forward slightly, seeing if Shaw was going to follow.

Shaw’s body pressed against her back. One of her hands, slipped under Root’s shirt and started moving higher, “I’m bored. I think we should have sex.” She kissed the curve of Root’s neck, “You know it was going to happen eventually. Why not now?”

“It was going to happen eventually?” Root closed her eyes, keeping her hands flat on the table.

Shaw’s fingers ghosted over Root’s ribs and dipped under her bra, “I’m tired of waiting.”

“You understand that you’ve turned into a horny little monster because you’ve been drugged right?” Root’s voice quivered.

Shaw smirked, “Fully.”

Root inhaled a shaky breath against Shaw’s hand. She bit her lip and dropped her head, “Harold and John are going to be here in thirteen minutes.”

“I can tell from your breathing that we won’t need that long,” Shaw pushed against Root. She could hear Root started to tremble under her. She smiled triumphantly and nipped at Root’s neck.

Root grabbed onto the edge of the table, trying to keep herself standing. She swallowed, trying to find a coherent thought in her brain. “Are you sure this isn’t just because of the drug?”

“You said it yourself,” Shaw moved her free hand down Root’s hips, “This is me without inhibitions.”

“Twelve minutes,” Root whispered.

Shaw’s hand slipped part the top of Root’s pants, “We better hurry then.”

=+=+=+=+

“I hope Ms. Shaw wasn’t a problem,” Harold mentioned when he and Reese finally reentered the subway.

Root swiveled around in the chair and looked at Reese and Harold. She picked up the phone she put back together and offered waved it to Reese. “She’s been asleep.”

Reese looked over at the bench where Shaw was handcuffed and asleep. He took his phone back, “Maybe the drug makes her tired.”

“Yeah I’m sure that’s it,” Root stood up. “I’m gonna get out of here.”

“A number?” Harold asked.

Root nodded, “I’ll be back later tonight to relieve you boys.”

“Oh I was gonna stay here,” Reese offered, putting his hands in his pockets.

Root picked up her jacket and put it on, “I think you’ll be needed elsewhere.” Root grinned, “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.”

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

Shaw was asleep when Root returned to the subway. Root was disappointed, but understood. She was tired herself and found the most comfortable chair she could to take a nap in.

Root used her coat as a blanket and closed her eyes. She drifted off to sleep, hoping that Shaw didn't plan to escape while she was sleeping because Harold would be really annoyed with both of them if Shaw killed a few people while she was drugged and on her own.

When she woke up, Shaw had her leg on the workbench, prying off the ankle taser. It popped up with an audible buzz and Shaw tossed down the screw driver she was using. She rubbed the burn marks on her ankle from the repeated shocking she got from trying to get it off.

Root quickly stood, “Sameen, what's going on?”

“Drug's gone,” Shaw walked into the subway car, “What's the combo for the guns?”

“Why?” Root walked in after her. “Where are you going?”

“In the past fifteen years, there have only been about six hours when I wasn't armed,” Shaw stood next to the gun lockers.

Root crossed her arms, “How do I know that you're not still drugged?”

Shaw quickly advanced on Root, pinning her against the wall of the subway train. She drew Root into a kiss, forcing her harder into the wall. Her thigh slipped between Root's legs and pressed hard. Root gasped into Shaw's mouth, her hands resting on Shaw's jaw.

Then suddenly, Shaw pulled away. She took a step back and leaned against the opposite wall from Root. She looked dead at Root and stated, “Self-control.” She pointed to the lockers next to her, “Gun. Now.”

Root blinked and tried to reign in her obvious arousal. She moved to the gun lockers and waited for the Machine to tell her the number. She punched in the number and opened the locker, stepping aside so that Shaw could get a gun.

There was more chatter in Roots ear so she grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. She scrawled out a name and address. She folded it and handed it to Shaw, “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Shaw rolled her eyes, snatching the paper away. She walked toward the door of the subway train. She stopped and turned around, “And I did not forget what happened while I was drugged.”

“I literally didn't do anything,” Root put her hands up, “I just stood there.”

“Yeah,” Shaw nodded and turned back around, “You're gonna make that up to me later.”

Root put her hands down and smiled, watching Shaw disappear up the stairs of the subway. She closed the locker door and turned the electronic locks back on, “Gladly.”


	36. Chapter 36

Root leaned back in the computer chair in the subway. It had been a long day. Two saves and a rescue from fiery building really took it out of her. Especially when she didn't get a lot of sleep the night before.

“Why don't you head home, Ms. Groves?” Harold asked kindly. He walked from the inside of the subway toward her. “You've been quite busy today.”

Root leaned farther back in the chair. She used the band around her wrist to put her hair up. “That sounds like a good idea. Maybe pick up a pizza on the way home.”

“You too, Ms. Shaw and Mr. Reese,” Harold turned around, seeing Reese replacing the bullets that he had used in the magazine of his gun.

Shaw knew she was tired. She stood up from the bench that she had been sitting on, starting to prepare to leave into the early morning.

Root was the first one out of the subway, disappearing before anyone could even see what direction she went. Shaw, Reese, and Harold moved out together, Harold bringing up the rear. He couldn't help, but notice something different about Shaw. “New shoes. Ms. Shaw?”

Shaw looked down like she forgot she was wearing shoes. “Uh, yeah.”

“They're nice,” Harold commented, “Italian leather. Hand stitching.”

“Yeah,” Shaw shook her head, not caring about the shoes in the least. “They were expensive.”

“I'm sure,” Harold pursed his lips. He shook his head to himself. She had no idea that the boots she was wearing were Norwegian and definitely not something that Shaw would have spent almost two thousand dollars on.

When they got to street level, Shaw held out her hand, “I'll take Bear tonight.”

Reese handed over the leash and Harold added, “Don't feed him Thai food again.”

“He jumped up on the table,” Shaw weakly defended herself and walked away with Bear in tow.

Harold and Reese turned down the street in the opposite direction. Reese asked Harold, “Why can't Bear have Thai food?”

“It gives him gas,” Harold answered, putting his hat on his head.

Their nice break from the numbers was short lived. Harold was awakened by a news alert on his phone, followed by a new number around two in the afternoon. He called Reese who he gave the unpleasant job of waking Shaw.

Shaw met Reese on the roof of a building across from their new number. She was cold and hungry and tired. She asked, “He's a model?”

“And part time dog walker,” Reese looked through the lens of the camera and snapped a few pictures of the handsome man sitting in his apartment, drinking coffee. He was shirtless and only wearing a towel around his waist.

“He's not shy is he?” Shaw looked out over the water and yawned. “So are we going to play on the model thing or the dog walker thing?”

“Where's Bear?” Reese asked, looking around the roof.

“He's still asleep,” Shaw answered, then muttered, “Lucky bastard.”

“We'll play on the dog walker,” Reese snapped another picture of the model's kitchen table, “And the man.”

Shaw looked down at herself, “Well I gotta change if I'm going to be alluring.”

“I wasn't going to say anything,” Reese earned himself a punch to the pectoral.

They walked the few blocks to Shaw's apartment. Somehow on the way, they got into a discussion of their most annoying missions while working for the government. Shaw heaved open the door of the new apartment she bought after she'd been rescued from Samaritan, “I stayed on the hundredth floor for three days, waiting for the target to open his window across the bay.” She stepped in first.

“I spent seven days in a tree, waiting to take out a militia leader in the rainforest,” Reese countered, following Shaw into her apartment. “It rained the entire time.”

Shaw grinned, “They call it the rainforest for a reason, John.” She walked past the living room with only one couch in it.

Reese stopped in the doorway, knowing that Shaw was going to change in the back of the apartment. He stood respectfully in the living room, looking at the kitchen. The only thing in the kitchen that looked like it was used was the table. There was an open, empty pizza box on the table and two empty beer bottles sitting on the table.

There was a loud thump in the back of the apartment and Reese took out his gun, quickly but silently moving toward the noise. “Shaw?” he called when he got close to the doorway.

“Stop leaving grenades on the nightstand,” Shaw huffed through the doorway.

Reese stopped in the doorway, “Are you talking to me?” When he was fully in the doorway, he knew for sure that Shaw was not talking to him.

He could see the bare back of the tall, thin woman sprawled across Shaw's bed. Shaw pulled on a low-cut black tank top and grabbed her boots. She sat on the bed and the woman on the bed shifted, her long brown hair moving away from her face. Reese was both shocked and not shocked at all that Root was the one sleeping half-naked in Shaw's bed next to Bear who didn't seem to want to get up either.

Root groaned and grabbed the blanket pulling it over her head. She mumbled something incoherent to Reese, but it was something Shaw understood.

Shaw looked at the door, “She said The Machine told her our number has a few disputes with his neighbor where the cops were called. You wanna use your badge to check that out and I'll take Bear?”

Reese nodded slowly. He turned away from the strange scene in front of him, “I'll head over there now.” He knew that nothing good would come of asking Shaw or Root what was going on. It did start to make sense as he stepped out of the apartment. Root had worn a watch the week before that definitely wasn't her style. Shaw declined an after-number drink because she wanted to get home a few days before. Root was less flirty during missions.

He tired to keep a smile hidden as he left the building, knowing that The Machine was probably watching and that Root could know what he was doing at any given moment. But it was hard to not be happy for them. It was a weird relationship- one that probably shouldn't work, but one that he knew would work. Root never wanted anything other than the Shaw that was in front of her. Shaw wasn't good with relationships, but she tried for Root. In their chaotic world, finding someone to hold on to was almost impossible and Reese wanted them both to hold on as tight as they could because they deserved it.

  



	37. Chapter 37

Shaw's mattress was thin. It made her muscles ache while she slept. She knew it was part of the mind games. They were trying to break her down. They wanted to break her body and break her spirit. Physical torture didn't produce any information for the past month so they stuck her in a small cell with hardly any food and alarms that went off at irregular intervals to keep her from getting a fair amount of sleep.

The sound of eating woke her up. It sounded like someone was eating an apple. Shaw wasn't in a hurry to confront a crazed Samaritan operative so she didn't move much. One eye opened slightly against the florescent light in the ceiling that was never turned off.

“Hey sweetie,” Root stood over Shaw with an amused smile on her face. There was an apple in her hand that she took another bite of as she turned away from Shaw.

Shaw slowly sat up, “Is this a rescue? It took you long enough.”

“It's not a rescue,” Root leaned back on the opposite wall from Shaw. She chewed thoughtfully, “I mean it could be considered one if you think about it long enough.” She shrugged, her shoulders rising under a brown leather jacket. “A rescue of sorts.”

Shaw cleared her throat, finding it sore from lack of use, “Then why are you here.”

“Not sure,” Root swung her left leg slowly in front of herself and started walking parallel to the wall.

Shaw leaned back on the wall, not sure if she had the strength to stand. “What the hell is going on, Root? Did the Machine send you?”

Root looked at the ceiling and then shook her head, “No. Definitely not.” She took another bite of her apple, crossing her other arm over her midsection, wrinkling the purple shirt under her jacket.

What little patience she had before she was malnourished and sleep deprived seemed like ocean depths compared that the patience she ended up with. “Are we getting out of here or not?”

“Not yet,” Root tapped her foot against a white panel near the back of the cell. She looked up quickly like someone had called her name and then she quickly added, “Cover your ears.”

“Wha-” was all that got out of Shaw's mouth before the alarm sounded. It was an almost deafening siren that sent Shaw crumbling back onto her bed with her face in the mattress. She covered her ears trying to block out the sound. She had learned the best way to do so over time, but the noise still rattled around in her bones.

She counted to thirty to herself and then the alarm stopped. Her ears rang as she sat up, “Root are you okay? That's just-” She stopped completely and looked all the way around her cell. There was no one else there.

Her eyes moved to the heavy metal door that was still firmly closed. A meal tray clattered through the slot. Soggy bread and a small bowl of bean that had clearly been canned before Shaw was born. She slowly moved to the food, trying to get a glimpse out of the slot before it was slammed closed. She wondered where Root ran off too and why she didn't get to leave with her.

Maybe they were going to make some grand escape together. Maybe Root was coming back with reinforcements.

For the first time in weeks, Shaw felt like she needed to eat all the food that was given to her no matter how disgusting. She needed to get at least a little big of her strength back to assist in her own escape.

Shaw couldn't really tell time because the lights were always on, there weren't windows and her sleep was erratic at best because of the alarms, but seven alarms passed before Root showed up again.

Shaw woke up and found Root hunched over in the corner of the cell, eating a granola bar. “Good morning sleepy head.”

“When do we get out of here, Root?” Shaw sat up this time a little easier. She stretched out her legs and looked at the sad state of the clothes she was in.

Root took a bite and answered with a mouthful, “We can't go anywhere unless you can at the very least stand up.” Root rose to her feet, dusting the granola crumbs off of her purple sweater.

“Where's John?” Shaw pulled her legs up so that her feet touched the ground. There was an inch of old material between Shaw and the ground, making it hard to stand.

Root watched Shaw carefully, “Don't know.”

“Harold?' Shaw pushed against the wall to try to get herself to her feet. She gritted her teeth at the pain of her almost atrophied muscles having to work harder than they had in months.

Root shook her head, “No idea.”

Shaw leaned heavily on the wall, but was mostly upright when she asked, “What do you know?”

“Not a lot right now,” Root answered conversationally. She tilted her head, “I'm learning more as I go.” She looked at Shaw, “Look at you, standing up.”

“I'll stab you,” Shaw pushed away from the wall and wavered for a second before regaining her balance.

Root walked the length of the cell and tapped the side of her foot on a white panel near the back of the cell. Then she looked at Shaw, “With what? Your witty repartee?”

Shaw took a step toward Root, but the sirens started wailing. She had a hard time standing so she just sat down and closed her eyes, trying to block out the flashing lights. When she opened her eyes again, she was alone.

There were four more sirens when Root returned. She was wearing a black coat over a purple shirt with a black beanie on her head. Root bit off the end of a sandwich, “How's the escape coming along?'

Shaw sat up easily and studied Root, “Aren't you here to rescue me?”

“I'm here to help you rescue yourself and I think we both know that,” Root leaned back against the wall. She bent her knee and rested the bottom of her boot against a white panel. She took another bite of her sandwich.

The prisoner moved to her feet and wavered only a second before letting go of the wall completely. “Alright, so how are you going to help me?”

Root shrugged, “I don't know. I'm sure you'll figure it out.”

Shaw stepped toward Root, feeling confident her to movements. “Then why are you even here.”

“Incentive,” Root grinned. She finished the sandwich and dusted her hands off, “You better hurry too. There's not much time left.”

“For what?” Shaw took another step toward Root.

The taller woman smiled, “You'll figure it out.”

Shaw moved her arms around, feeling the muscles in her shoulders start to loosen, “How do you keep getting in and out of here?”

The smile on Root's face turned mischievous, “If I tell you all my secrets, where is my allure?”

A deafening wail filled the room and Shaw fell to her knees. It sounded louder than before and she had to cover her ears or she felt like she would certainly go deaf.

Of course when she looked up, Root was gone.

Shaw got on her hands and knees when the siren was finished. It always seemed to take a lot of energy out of her. She looked up again to make sure that Root was really gone. She rolled her eyes at Root's disappearance. It didn't make sense that Root didn't just take Shaw with her when she left.

As she was standing, something caught her eye. The white panel near the back of the cell was sticking out a little farther in one corner than the rest of the panels. Shaw looked up at the camera and tried to decide her best course of action. She listened for any kind of movement and didn't hear anything. She was just going to have to chance someone seeing her.

She got her fingers around the corner of the panel and pulled at it. Her weakened state and less than filling food source it took a few tries, but the panel popped off and what Shaw found was not what she was hoping for.

She was hoping for food and a weapon. Instead she found two pipes that led to other places in the building. The space between the panel and the concrete behind it was minimal, maybe a few inches. One of the pipes was copper and obviously eroding while the other one looked fairly new and in perfect shape.

Shaw grabbed onto the copper pipe and pulled on it. It gave a little bit, but it was going to take more than just a few seconds to get it out. She wiggled it for a while before she heard footsteps. Shaw replaced the panel and moved to her bed.

It had been twelve alarms before Root reappeared. The sound of her leather jacket scraping against the wall, preceded her. Shaw didn't even look up as she kept using her heel to kick out the pipe.

“Aren't you wondering why no one sees you do this?” Root asked, standing near the door. She took a bite of a rolled up pancake in her hand.

Shaw sniffed the air, “Is that banana chocolate chip?” She kicked the pipe again. “The guards have a schedule. There are other prisoners here and they have to pass out meals at the same time. If you could call those meals. I have seven minutes.”

“Nice work, Shaw,” Root smiled. “You'll be out of here before you know it.” Root tilted her head, “Make sure to get some sleep. You're going to need it.”

She was about to add something else, but the alarm went off. Shaw managed to keep her faculties about her enough to ignore it. She wasn't surprised that Root was gone again.

When the pipe came loose, Shaw knew it was time to get out of there. She hid in the corner of the room that the camera over the door couldn't see until someone game to check on her. She pretended to be slumped against the wall passed out when a guard came in.

She stabbed him with the jagged end of the pipe. She searched his body for a gun and didn't find one. They would know better than to send someone with a gun into her cell. She pushed his body into the view of the camera and stepped out the door.

Shaw fought off a few more guards and then found her way into a break room. She broke open a locker to steal a phone and a gun. Then she made her way out of the building. It was cold and her thin captive clothes weren't helping to keep her warm. She trudged through the snow barefooted. Walking so far had made her realize the sheer size of the bruise on her heel that she acquired from repeatedly stomping on the pipe.

Shaw put the phone to her ear when she was far enough away from the facility. She scooped up some snow and shoved it into her mouth. She'd moved more in the past five minutes than she had in months.

The phone picked up, but no one spoke. Shaw knew what was going on, “John.”

“Shaw?” John asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Shaw crouched down near a bush so she could keep an eye on the facility while being hidden, “Are you up for storming a Samaritan facility?”

“Where are you?” John asked, “Do they still have you?”

Shaw checked her gun, “No. They have Root. We gotta get her out.”

There was a long paused. John took a breath before answering, “Shaw, Root's with us.”

“What?” Shaw asked, “She left without me?”

John paused again, “Where are you Shaw?”

Shaw looked around, “I don't know. There are trees.” She looked around and spotted a parking lot, “Oh I thought I smelled sewage. I'm in New Jersey. Tell you what,” she stood up, “I'm going to steal one of these cars and I'll meet you at Grand Central in two hours.”

“Take care, Shaw,” John answered.

It was less than two hours later when Shaw walked into the Grand Central Station with a baseball cap on, boots that were too big and some pants she stole from the trunk of a car.

“You look good,” John appeared next to her.

Shaw nodded. She looked around. She was disappointed. She was sure that Root would have come with John. “Well these pants are dead guard couture.”

John offered Shaw a wrapped up sandwich that was still warm. Shaw took it and immediately opened it. John looked around, “Let's get out of here.”

They walked out of the station together. By the time they got to John's car, Shaw had finished her sandwich, “What's the situation with the Machine? I heard some guards talking about thirty agents being taken out in one night.”

John cleared his throat, “The Machine is...offline. For the time being. Harold is working to get The Machine back up and running.” He turned a corner and then went into a parking garage. “But right now, The Machine is down to it's core code. It has to be rebuilt.”

“I bet Root is so excited to be helping with that,” Shaw looked out the window and watched them pull to a stop on the third level of a parking garage. “It's like her dream come true.”

John swallowed. He opened his mouth and then closed it before getting out of the car without a word.

Shaw took note of the action and jumped out of the car, “John, what's going on? Where's Root?”

“She's inside,” he gestured to the elevator near where he parked.

Shaw frowned hard. There was something he wasn't telling her. On the ride up to the safe house, Shaw let it stew. She wasn't sure what it was, but something was really wrong.

They walked to the end of the hallway and Harold opened the door before they got close. He smiled, “Ms. Shaw, it's so good to see you.”

“Where's Root?” Shaw asked, not smiling at Harold or even really acknowledging his greeting. She pushed past him when both men were silent.

She moved past the small living room in the apartment, down a hallway. “Root?” She passed a bedroom with a large bed in it and then a bathroom. At the end of the hallway, Shaw found who she was looking for in the second bedroom.

Root was laying in a queen sized bed, the soft beeps of a heart monitor barely making it's way to her ears. Root's eyes were closed and her body was still. She felt John and Harold behind her as she stepped fully into the room, “When did this happen?”

“Six weeks ago,” John answered, carefully watching Shaw. “It was the night that we killed those thirty agents. We were fighting our way out and...”

“She saved my life,” Harold quietly added, his hand on the door frame. “She was shot three time and she hit her head as she fell.” Harold looked at the ground and then back up at Shaw, “I'm sorry, Sameen.”

Shaw moved toward the bed and looked at the woman in it. She had seen Root literally dodge bullets. She'd seen Root shot and hurt. She'd seen Root emotionally broken. She'd never seen Root like that. She was always so full of like and energy. Now she was…

“How long have I been gone?” Shaw asked coolly.

John took off his coat and placed it on the chair next to the window, “She was shot the day after they moved you from the psychiatric facility.”

Shaw looked over Root's still face. So Samaritan did manage to break her. Her mind anyway. The Root that was in her cell with her wasn't real. Had Shaw been able to think more clearly maybe she would have noticed. She would have seen that Root was only wearing things that Shaw had seen her wear. They were was no way that Root could have gotten in and out of the facility. She's probably Samaritan Enemy Number One. They'd have her picture plastered everywhere.

Shaw knew about things like this. The mind takes in information even when the conscious mind cannot think clearly. Her mind was using Root to convey information she already had. She closed her eyes and remembered hearing the guard's footsteps during mealtimes. She knew that she had to get out of the facility. She had heard two guards talking about a transfer that would ease her escape. She had seen the loose panel on her own. Her mind had used an important person...the most important person to show her the way.

Shaw took off the jacket John had given her and looked at Harold, “Have you been documenting her condition?”

Harold walked to the nightstand next to the bed and picked up a small maroon leather bound book, “Multiple times a day.” He handed the book the Shaw.

Shaw looked around for a moment. Then she took the chair from the window area and moved it next to the bed. There, she sat down, opened the book to the first page, and began to read.

 


	38. Chapter 38

Root smiled at the dog who was licking her sore ankle. Root was seated under an overpass waiting to ambush an ambush. 

The ambush she was waiting for pulled up under the overpass in a dark SUV. She leaned toward Bear and whispered one command to him while she pulled out her own gun. The second the two driver’s side doors opened, Root shot them. She didn’t waist time with a kneecap shot. She was past that.

Bear ran around the car barking while Root walked down the steep embankment to the road. Bear barked loudly and then it suddenly stopped. 

Root’s eyes got wide. “Bear?” She ran the rest of the way down concrete slop and ran around the SUV to find Bear. 

It was fine though. Bear was sitting at the feet of a familiar face that made Root’s stomach drop. 

“I’m glad I still remember Dutch,” Shaw pet the top of Bear’s head and turned to Root, a gun in her hand. 

“I was sure John was mistaken when he told me Samaritan had acquired a new agent,” Root kept her gun pointed at Shaw. “I guess he’s right.”

Shaw use her gun to gesture Root into the open back door of the SUV. “Get in.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Root tried to keep up an aloof exterior, though her smile was shaky, “How about I take Bear and we call this a draw?” She looked at Bear, “Bear, komen.”

“Zitten,” Shaw snapped and Bear stopped moving to Root. He sat down, looking between the pair.

Root sighed, “You don’t get to play with puppies when you’re a bad guy, Shaw.”

“Who says I’m a bad guy?” Shaw kept her gun pointed at Root. 

“Basic morality,” Root answered, “The kind you used to have. The kind I didn’t.”

Shaw looked Root over. Then she gestured to the SUV again, “Get in the car.”

“I-” Root started, but a shot rang out. She looked down and saw her gun flying away from her, having been shot out of her hand. 

“I always told you you held your gun too far away,” Shaw stated coolly, her gun steaming in the frigid mid-afternoon, “Get in the car.”


	39. "You don't have to do that every time you come out of the bath now, Habiti."

“I’m sorry,” Root looked down at the puddle on the floor and the towel she was using to mop it up. She looked sheepishly at the older woman, “I just…always make a mess.” She looked down at herself, wrapped only in a towel. Her voice was low and unsure, “I’ll go get dressed now.”

The woman watched Root walk out of the bathroom and looked down at the mess on the floor. She pressed the button on the wall to call the maid and walked out of the room after Root. “Would you like something to eat?”

Root was in the middle of putting on a shirt as modestly as she could. “Um, anything really. Thank you, Neda.”

The woman nodded. She walked out of the room and down the hallway. After dropping off a food request with the kitchen, Neda walked down the long hallway of her luxurious house and up the stairs. She passed her bedroom and walked straight into her office. 

She sat down at her computer and made a video chat request the second her computer woke up. 

Her cousin’s face popped up on the screen a few minutes later. “How is she?”

Neda shrugged, “She’s still in a daze. I don’t know what happened to her, but it must have been traumatic.” Neda looked at some notes she had been taking the day before, “She ate twice yesterday and sat by the pool for four hours just staring at the land on the other side of the yard.” Neda moved some papers around on her glass desk and shook her head, “Her wounds are healing well, especially the ones on her back.” Neda looked over her notes and became nauseous as she read over her description of Root’s healing wounds. “I think her recovery would go more quickly if she had some familiar faces.” She looked right into her cousin’s eyes, “It’s been five weeks at the same level of emotional…muteness.”

“That’s not possible right now,” Neda’s cousin answered over the video chat. She looked to her side, obviously on a camera attached to a phone.

“Sameen,” Neda pleaded with her cousin, “What happened to that poor woman? Her wounds are…purposeful. Someone did that to her.”

Shaw shook her head, “You know I can’t tell you that.” 

“Because the people who did that to her are so dangerous that you had to drop her off in my office in Tehran in the middle of the night.”

Shaw nodded. She put her hand over her eyes, rubbing her temples, “Um, give her a computer. See if she’ll-”

“I already tried,” Neda answered, “She won’t even open the laptop I had sent to her room.”

Shaw sighed. “Okay. Um…I’ll call back in a few hours. Thanks for taking care of her.”

Neda looked sympathetically at her cousin, “I’ll see if she wants to go to the beach. She seemed to quite like it there.”

Shaw nodded, “That’s a good idea.” There was a long pause like Shaw wanted to say something, but instead she pursed her lips together before muttering, “I’ll call later.” 

Then Neda’s screen went black. 


	40. Chapter 40

“Hey kids,” Root walked toward the group, but didn’t slow down. She tossed a full magazine to Shaw and a small spray bottle of antiseptic to Fusco. As she passed them, she turned her body toward them, “I left a new belt for you at your apartment John.”

John looked down at his belt, “What happens to this one?”

Root just smiled and turned to walk away.

“Hey, we’re going to lunch,” Fusco called after her. “Do you wanna go?”

Root stopped in her tracks. She cocked her head a little bit because she was initially confused. She never got invited to after mission gatherings, well unless Shaw invited her. 

“Uh, sure,” Root turned around with a nervous smile.

Her smile faded when she saw where they were eating. Shaw bumped Root’s shoulder while they were in line, “What’s wrong Tex? You don’t like barbecue?”

Root rolled her eyes, “No. I’m not particularly fond of barbecue. Not that this is barbecue.”

“Hey, these are the best ribs I’ve ever had,” Fusco pointed to the ribs on the other side of the counter being cut apart by a worker. Then he wrinkled his nose, “You’re from Texas?”

Root nodded. “Where there’s  _actual_  barbecue.”

“Hey now,” Fusco turned his body toward Root. “This is the best-”

“Fake barbecue,” Root answered. “The iced tea is also terrible.”

John looked over Fusco’s head at Shaw, “What do you say we settle this?”

“Lunch in New York and Dinner in Texas?” Shaw grinned, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Root seemed game. She gently nudged Shaw’s shoulder to get her attention, “We can stop in St. Louis on the way back.”

“Can we steal a jet too?” Shaw smiled up at Root.

The hacker grinned at the glee in Shaw’s face, “Why not?” 


	41. "Shaw! Now what would Root say right now?"

“Root would say, you two are very over dressed for the middle of the desert in the summer,” Root’s voice didn’t come through their comm systems. 

Shaw and Reese turned around. Root was standing behind them in cargo pants and a tank top. There were sunglasses over her eyes and a backpack hanging on her shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

“As much fun as you two would have had hiking to the middle of the desert, John is going to have to sit this one out,” Root answered, kicked at the ground with her black boots. She looked up at John, “If you go into the desert, right now, you’ll get heatstroke. After carrying you ten minutes, Shaw will also get heatstroke. Since there’s a storm coming, search and rescue wouldn’t be able to find either one of you for days.” She shrugged, “So I’m here.”

John seemed indignant, “I would get heat stroke?”

Root nodded, “You’re not acclimated to hot, dry weather at the moment and your urine specific gravity indicates slight dehydration alright. Must be all the scotch.” She took a deep breath, “So, I’ll watch Shaw’s back. Harold needs you anyway.”

John looked around then nodded to Shaw, “Have fun.” He walked back toward the small airport surrounded by desert.

Root gestured to the plane whose engines were starting to spin up, “Shall we?”

“What do you know about surviving in the desert?” Shaw asked, but started walking to the plane what would drop them in the middle of the desert.

Root smiled, “Well, I learned how to skin a rattlesnake when I was seven.” When Shaw looked questioningly at her Root smiled, “I was a girl scout in rural Texas. And I brought enough water for three days. We can refill when the storm hits.”

Shaw looked at the sky. There wasn’t a single cloud, but she knew that if Root predicted it, it would happen. “I get to jump out first.”

Root smiled and watched Shaw hop into the plane, “Of course.”


	42. ''Stop drinking! What's wrong with you?''

“It’s just a bomb, Harold,” Shaw poured another pair of shots. She slid one to Root who picked it up. They tapped shot glasses and downed them. 

Shaw easily downed the shot. Root placed her shot glass back down on the bar once hers was gone. “I’m sure John can disarm a simple bomb by himself.”

“That is a good bottle of whiskey,” Shaw placed her glass next to Root’s and poured two other shots. “John you want one?”

“Make it a double,” John answered, kneeling on the floor and hunched over a bomb they had been dispatched to disarm. 

Shaw stepped over the body of an assailant to get down a glass for John. 

“Ms. Shaw,” Harold’s voice sounded in their ears, “Ms. G…Root, need I remind you what happened last time the two of you were drinking on the job?”

“You don’t have to remind me,” Root grinned mischievously, “But if you’d like to, I wouldn’t stop you.”

“Ms. Shaw, you were shot while you were…” Harold trailed off. 

Shaw picked up her shot, clinked her with glass with Root’s before downing the whiskey, “To be honest, it’s not the first time I’ve needed stitches after sex.”


	43. Chapter 43

“Twenty-one,” Root smiled, showing her cards to the other women. She reached for the chips on the table and raked them over to herself. “I win again.”

“Are you sure you covered up all the cameras in the room?” Zoe looked across the table at Shaw and tossed her new ante in.

Shaw looked less than pleased at her measly bank and then she looked at Root, “I thought so, but now I’m not so sure.”

“What, Shaw?” Root grinned, “You don’t think I can win with my own talent.”

Zoe gathered all the cards on the table and started to shuffle them. She watched Root’s eyes and then narrowed her own, “You can count cards.”

Root let out a chesire grin.

“Of course you can,” Shaw leaned back in her chair, “I want my money back.”

“Then learn to count cards,” Root answered, starting to stack her won chips into neat piles.

“How about we switch games?” Zoe suggested, “Five card draw.”

“How about Root gives me back what she stole?” Shaw leaned on the table.

“Five card draw sounds fun, Zoe,” Root smiled across the table at Zoe.

Shaw leaned toward Root, a menacing glare on her face. “Give. Me. Back. My. Money.”

Root leaned toward Shaw stopping an inch from Shaw’s face. She stayed there for a moment before grinned devilishly, “No.”

“Give it back or I will shoot you,” Shaw didn’t move, her voice morphing into a gravely whisper, “And not in the knee.”

Root didn’t answer with words. She quickly darted forward and kissed Shaw before sitting up straight in her chair, a victorious grin on her face.

Shaw hung her head and huffed, “Why do I even try?”

“I’d like two cards please,” Root slid Zoe her unwanted cards and resumed playing the new game with a shit-eating grin on her face. 


	44. "Root, get down from there, now"

“I’m a little busy,” Root leaned back in the harness that was holding her on top of the telephone pole. She put a screwdriver in her mouth so that she could use her hands disassemble the electronics in front of her. 

Shaw looked around, “What are you doing?”

Root smiled as she inserted the chip into the box. Tears sprang to her eyes when electricity starting surging through the chip. She put the cover back on the box. Before she finished screwing the box closed, she froze. 

“Root?” Shaw saw her stop and was starting to get worried.

“I can hear you,” Root’s voice cracked when she answered the question that only she could hear, “It’s so good to hear your voice.”


	45. "Why do you stare at me?" "You're so beautiful. I like to look at beautiful things."

“I really don’t care that you’ve been drugged. I’ll still kneecap you if you keep saying shit like that,” Shaw closed the door of their train car. 

Root laid down on the bench seat and closed her eyes, “Where are we going?”

“I can’t tell you,” Shaw took off her coat and sat down opposite Root. 

“Why not?” Root pushed her hair out of her eyes. 

Shaw looked at Root, trying to decided exactly what to say, “Samaritan has a worm in The Machine and since you’re the Machine’s eyes and ears, the less you know, the better.”

“So I have to stay drugged?” Root asked, pushing herself up in a sitting position. She leaned on the wall and curled into a ball, staring out of the window.

Shaw quickly got up and pulled down the window shade. “Yeah, you have to stay drugged. At least until we get where we’re going.”

Root sighed, “I hate this. It’s like the first time they put my in a psych ward.”

“First time?” Shaw quirked an eyebrow.

Root nodded slowly, lulling her head onto the wall next to her, “Are you really surprised?”

Shaw was honest and shook her head. 

Root smiled humorlessly, “The first one was an underfunded state hospital in rural Texas. Actual treatment wasn’t really an option because no one knew what they were doing. So I was drugged twenty-four seven until I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Shaw swallowed, “Look, this is just…I trust you, but…”

“You can’t trust the voice in my head,” Root raised an eyebrow. 

“As soon as we’re there, I won’t have to drug you anymore,” Shaw saw how small and sad Root was, leaning against the wall with her arms wrapped around her knees. 

Root nodded solemnly, “I trust you Sameen.”


	46. "You bought me a present?

“I didn’t buy it,” Shaw tried to brush it off. “I got into a gunfight and while I was taking cover in the self-defense aisle. I just grabbed it because you were upset when I shot your old one.”

Root picked up the taser with her left hand and waved her right one in the air, showing Shaw a small bandage on the outside of her hand. “Good shot by the way. You only barely got my hand.”

“Well I know you need those,” Shaw looked out the dirty blinds of the small hotel room. “Look, I gotta go before the other Samaritan agents regroup to attack again. You gotta get out of here. Take the service exit on the north side. The agent guarding that door has a bum knee.”

“Thank you, Sameen,” Root heaved herself up from the desk she had been sitting at. She rolled her shoulders and picked up her gun. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Shaw just nodded once, agreeing to Root’s request. She moved to the door and stopped before she put her hand on the door, “Root, what’s going on?”

Root crossed her arms and looked down, “I-I’m on my own for a little while. I’ll be fine.” She dropped her posture and picked up her gun. “I’m going to leave out the window.”

Shaw knew there was more than Root was saying, but then wasn’t the time to address it. She just nodded again and then walked out the door.


	47. "Claire Mahoney has a fucking crush on you!?"

“Uh, well she sent me a message embedded in a picture she took of me from far away,” Root sat in Shaw’s bed with Shaw’s computer on her lap. 

“What does it say?” Shaw asked, placing a cardboard container from the deli she had just returned from. 

“She apologized for stabbing me and wants to meet me for dinner,” Root opened the food container and picked up her sandwich, “She picked one of the only places in the city without any camera views.” Root took a bite of her sandwich and swallowed before adding, “It sounds like a trap.”

“It sounds like a crush,” Shaw sat on the end of the bed opposite Root, “A homicidal crush. She planted a bomb in her apartment that would have blown up if you tried to find her.”

“So that’s where you went,” Root picked up a chip and put it in her mouth.

Shaw nodded picking up her drink from the deli, “She’s definitely trying to kill you.”

Root too the drink from Shaw, “Then that’s going to make dinner tonight kind of awkward.”


	48. "Sameen... Sameen, it's me. Please..."

Shaw rolled out of her bed and padded to the large steel door at her apartment. She heaved it open, seeing Root standing at the door with her hand over her bleeding abdomen. Root tried to put her other hand on the door frame, but missed it and started to fall to the ground.

Shaw caught Root before she hit the ground, “What happened to you?”

Root looked dizzy and her eyelids drooped, “I… it was…”

“Okay, you can tell me later,” Shaw picked up Root and carried her to the bathroom. She set Root on the counter and then ripped open her shirt, “Jesus, you look like you were mauled by a chainsaw.”

Root leaned back on the mirror on the wall, barely able to keep herself sitting upright, “Something like that.”

Shaw grabbed a bag of high grade medical supplies from under the sink and then started digging around. She pulled out surgical tubing and an IV needle. Shaw ran to her refrigerator and pulled open the drawer at the bottom. She pushed aside two sticks of C4 and grabbed a handful of blood bags. She shuffled through them until she found one that said ‘Root’. 

Root was holding a towel over her wound when Shaw came back in. She watched Shaw open the medicine cabinet and hung the blood bag on it. Then she hooked up the infusion tube then stuck the needle in Root’s arm. 

“How do you know my blood type?” Root asked softly. She swallowed and glanced down at the towel that was almost soaked in blood. 

“I know everyone’s blood type,” Shaw answered, taking the towel from Root and tossing it into the shower. She guided Root into a laying position across the long counter with her knees steepled over the sink. “I keep a few bags of everyone’s blood type for emergencies.”

Root smiled to herself, “What’s Bear’s blood type?”

“DEA 1.1,” Shaw stated and took out a pair of tweezers and a scalpel, “Was this a gun or something else?”

“Something else,” Root shook her head, “No projectiles.”

Shaw started to repair the damage that she could see. It took a while, but she got Root sewed up and gave her another bag of blood. Then she cleaned Root as bed she could with a wash cloth. 

Root felt more alert after the second blood bag. She stiffly pulled on some workout pants Shaw let her borrow and winced when she used too much of her abdominal muscles to get them up around her hips.

Shaw was cleaning up the bathroom when she spotted Root reaching for her boots, “Hey. You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to stay here tonight.”

Root didn’t need much convincing. She laid down on the bed instead to getting her boots and rested her head on a pillow. 

Shaw left her medical bag out in case she needed it and then turned off the lights. “Who stabbed you four times at three a.m.?” 

“Claire Mahoney,” Root answered with a sigh. “She’s the new Martine.”

Shaw laid down in the bed next to Root and pulled the blanket up over both of them, “Like we need a new one.”

Root inhaled through her nose. Although it hurt, she understood that being alive and in pain was better than being dead and without it. “Thank you Shaw.”

“No problem,” Shaw answered quietly. She stared at Root’s silhouette in the dark until she was sure Root was asleep. Then she slowly got out of the bed as to not wake Root. 

Shaw moved to her small table where her laptop set. She opened it and sat down. She did a little digging on the computer and then pulled up a program Harold and Root had whipped together while they were trying to build the Machine back up. It was a stop gap, but it was a pretty good search algorithm. She pulled up the window and found the filed labeled ‘Asset Search’. Shaw clenched her jaw and typed in ‘Claire Mahoney’. She executed the search and almost immediately pictures of Claire popped up on the screen. There were notes about location and time under each picture as well as a graphical display of a timeline of her whereabouts. 

Shaw picked up a pen and wrote the last address down on a take-out napkin. Then she went to the refrigerator to grab a few guns. Claire Mahoney would have no idea what hit her.


	49. "You seem to be better now"

Root sniffled and walked past Shaw to the computer, “Better is relative.” She sat down, “Who’s in trouble? What am I looking for?”

Shaw moved to Root and put her wrist on Root’s forehead, “You still have a fever. You should be in bed.”

“You called me down here to take my temperature?” Root sniffled against and pushed her glasses up her face. She looked particularly pathetic with her hair in it’s messy bun and her eyes bloodshot. 

Shaw rolled her eyes and shook her head, “I didn’t know you had a fever. I can do this myself. I’ll just have to do it old school.”

“Well new school is already here,” Root spun around in her chair to face the computer. “And partially capable which is exceptionally capable for most people. What am I doing?”

Shaw sighed and put one hand on the back of Root’s chair and one on the desk next to her. She explained what she needed and Root easily found it. She scratched the crown of her head and looked up at Shaw, “You should probably take John with you.”

“He’s busy,” Shaw looked over the schematics of the building, “I can do this.”

Root stood up and walked into the subway train. She opened one of the gun lockers and pulled out a handgun, “I’ll drive.”

“You’ll drive yourself home,” Shaw stopped her from walking out of the train by blocking the doorway.

Root rolled her eyes and put the gun in the back of her pants, “And I suppose you’re going to storm an entire warehouse by yourself without cover.”

“I am,” Shaw didn’t move.

Root reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a tissue, “I’m coming with you.”

Shaw looked down at the floor running scenarios in her head. She looked back up at Root, “Fine. You can come, but you are back up. You stay in the car unless I call you.”

“Fine,” Root was too tired to argue.

“You stay in the care unless  _I_ call you. No the Machine. Not John or Harold,” Shaw hammered the point home, “You do not exit the vehicle until I say.”

“Whatever,” Root shrugged. 

“Then I’m driving you straight home,” Shaw got out of the way and gestured for Root to leave before her. 

“I’m staying at a hotel at the moment,” Root rubbed her eyes, “I’m between apartments.”

“Being at a hotel is not going to make you get well any quicker,” Shaw grabbed her gun and her coat, “It’s probably working against you, all those germs in one place.”

“I will vomit all over you,” Root stated dryly walking to the door. 

Shaw pulled the door closed behind them, “You’re coming home with me after this. You need to sleep.”

Root sniffled again, “Your apartment is more sterile than a hotel? I’ve been there before. There was a weird smell in the bathroom.”

“That was gun oil,” Shaw stated. “Do I have to shoot you and take you to my apartment?”

Root huffed, “Will there be food?”

“We can get some on the way,” Shaw gave in. 

“No weird food or I  _will_  vomit on you,” Root put her hands in her pockets as they walked into the frigid New York winter.

“You’re a big baby when you’re sick, you know that?” Shaw asked. 

Root took a slim jim out of the breast of her coat and started breaking into the nearest car, muttering, “You’re a big baby.”

Shaw smiled to herself. Root was very amusing when she was sick and grumpy. “Fine. We’ll go to a deli. You need soup anyway.”

Root unlocked the car and opened the door. She glared at Shaw and sunk into the car, “If you’re going to doctor me all the way there, you can walk.”

“Alright,” Shaw opened the passenger door and sat down, a smile all over her face, “I’ll shut up.”


	50. Chapter 50

“What the hell is this?” Shaw demanded, standing in the doorway of Root’s apartment for the time being. 

Root smiled to herself, spooning the beef bourguignon onto the thick toasted slices of bread on the plate. “Hello, Sameen.”

“You can cook?” Shaw looked around the kitchen. It was obvious that Root could cook because of the mess and the wonderful smell that was all over the apartment. 

“I can,” Root spooned more of the meat onto another piece of toasted bread, “Very well actually.” She then set the pan down on the stove. She turned back to the plates, “If you’ll get the wine out of the cellar, you can have diner with me and explain how you got past my security systems.”

Shaw looked around the kitchen and found a door tucked in a hallway off of the kitchen. She opened the door and saw a wine collection that put most that she had seen to shame. Shaw picked out a dry red and followed Root into a dining room with a fantastic view of the city.

Shaw took off her coat and tossed it onto a chair that was sitting by the front door. Then she took a knife out of her pocket and used it to open the wine. 

Root was sitting down as Shaw poured the wine in the two glasses that were already on the table. “Your security systems suck. It only took me fifteen minutes to break into here…”


	51. 'i can't feel my face when i'm with you'

“Oh yeah,” Shaw took a bite of her sandwich in the middle of the deli where the Machine had sent her and Root, “You know that fragrance lab that I was stuck in for eight hours during a lockdown  _someone_  initiated on accident?”

Root grinned, “I am familiar. And the lockdown was a necessary precaution. Anyway, continue.”

“I made a new perfume,” Shaw gestured vaguely to her neck area, “Eau de Nerve Toxin.” Shaw took another bite, “Thin layer at petroleum jelly, two squirts of it and anyone’s skin that gets within ten inches of me start tingling, then goes numb.”

Root frowned at her coffee, “That’s no fun.”

“No fun?” Shaw scoffed, “I got an entire subway car to myself this morning. That was fun.”


	52. "I found out that you went on a date today"

Root shrugged off her jacket, “I did.”

Shaw swiveled around in her chair, “How was she?”

Root raised her eyebrows. She slowly turned around, “Were you watching me, Shaw?”

“No,” Shaw tapped the computer she was sitting in front of, in the subway. The computer sprang to life and presented a picture of a woman as well as a small dossier about her. “You left up your stalking file.”

“I wasn’t stalking her. I was just making sure she wasn’t Samaritan,” Root set her jacket down on the bench. She ran her hand through her hair, wishing Shaw would drop it.

Shaw shifted her jacket, “Is there going to be a second date?”

Root shook her head, “No.”

“Not a great conversationalist?” 

“She’s not my type,” Root walked over to the computer and closed the file with a few clicks. She moved away from Shaw quickly, “It was just…nice to go out.”

There was something deflated about Root that Shaw found unnerving. She leaned back in her chair. She looked up when John walked in, “Hey John, have you eaten?”

“No,” John buttoned his coat, “Do you want to go grab a steak?”

“Always,” Shaw stood up, grabbing her coat, “Root?”

Root smiled to herself. She knew what Shaw did and knew better than to thank her for it. “Yeah. I’m starving.”


	53. "so she's your girlfriend then Shaw - Gen asked"

Shaw scoffed, “No. Definitely not.” 

Gen leaned back on the park bench they were sitting on and looked over at Root who was talking to a few seedy looking men near a fountain. “She has a toothbrush at your apartment.”

Shaw looked at Gen, “How did you know that?”

“I searched your apartment while you were cleaning your gun,” Gen kicked her feet and looked up at the cloudless October sky. “You really need to dust more”

“How did you know it was Root’s?” Shaw looked back toward her colleague who smiled brightly at the men. She knew that that meant someone was about to get shot. The glee on Root’s face was unmistakable. 

Gen stood up with Shaw and followed her as they quickly started to talk away from the scene, “It was a hunch until you just admitted it.”

Shaw rolled her eyes, “I’m gonna kill John for teaching you covert interview techniques.”


	54. I went to the doctor today, it's twins.

Root presented Shaw with an ultrasound that clearly showed two babies on it. Shaw looked at the back of it, “Did you steal this or did the Machine make it?”

Root lifted up her shirt and pulled off a fake pregnancy stomach. “I put a transmitter in here so that it would send a signal to the computer and would randomly pick a saved local file. I got twins.” Root tossed the belly aside and pushed her hair out of her face. “People were nicer to me on the train though.”

“They look like Lionel,” John looked at it over Shaw’s shoulder.

Shaw squinted at the ultrasound. She handed it back to Root, “Who was your number anyway?”

“A nurse that worked at the clinic,” Root sat down at one of the computers and started typing. “We’re going out for coffee later.”

“And she thinks you’re pregnant?” John poked the fake belly. 

“She also thinks that my boyfriend ran off and left me to raise young John and Harold,” Root swiveled around in her chair to face John and Shaw. 

“You didn’t name one of them Sameen?” Shaw found a velcro flap on the belly and opened it to find the transmitter.

Root turned back toward the computer, “I already used that name. Sam Shaw left me when I told him I was pregnant.”

“I thought you were better than that Shaw,” John teased his co-worker.

Shaw snorted, “I’m also better than letting her go to the ultrasound herself, especially to a place like that. Did you see the quality of that thing? That machine is ten years old at best.”

Root smiled to herself, enjoying the mental picture of Shaw taking over use of the ultrasound machine to get a better picture for herself. Then Root turned back to the task at hand mumbling to herself, “Maybe in another life.”


	55. "who knew having a kid would soften you up?"

Shaw glared at Root, still laying on the ground of the subway station and petting the puppy on top of her.

Root grinned and took off her coat, “I’m sorry. I guess that’s your grandpuppy.”

Shaw looked at the puppy and pet it, “I’m going to train this one to attack you when you talk.”

Root picked up a puppy that was laying on top of an exhausted daddy Bear. “Aww, this one has your eyes Shaw.”

“I would shoot you, but the sound might scare the puppies,” Shaw continued to pet the puppy, not making a move for her gun at all. 


	56. "So why did we have to go to prison?"

“The Machine gave me a prison ID number instead of a social so we’re here to save her,” Root picked some lint off of her orange jumpsuit, “These jumpsuits are roomy.”

They kept watching until someone grabbed Root’s arm, “Hey, I was talking to you.”

Shaw immediately jumped between the two of them, pushing the other inmate back.

Root touched Shaw’s arm and smiled kindly at the woman, “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. I’m deaf in this ear.” Root pointed to her right ear. 

“Oh,” the woman’s stance relaxed, “What happened? You get sick or something?”

“Torture,” Root shrugged. “I’m Allison by the way.”

“Nina,” the woman nodded to her, “This your wife?”

“She’s  _my_  wife,” Shaw stated roughly.

Nina looked from Root to Shaw and back before starting to walk off, “Whatever you say, short stack.”


	57. "Is that... a crossbow?"

“Yeah,” Root looked down the length of it, “I made it out of newspaper and the elastic from the underwear they gave us.”

Shaw looked out the cell door, “You’re going to be put in AdSeg if you don’t chil with that thing.”

Root shrugged and put it under her pillow, “You’d miss me too much cellie?’

“No,” Shaw looked out the door and then back at Root, “But I don’t want have to kick someone else’s ass to get the bottom bunk.”

Root put her hands on Shaw’s arms and smiled, “I always knew you were a bottom.”

Shaw yanked her body away from Root and moved to the door, “I’m going to shank you.”


	58. "What do you mean 'you don't have a weapon'?"

“I forgot,” Root shrugged and leaned on the deli counter, looking at the rows of gelato.

Shaw turned her back to Root and shot a few more times trying to keep their assailants at bay. “Well can you get what we came here for so we can go?”

“Do you like pistachio?” Root tapped her finger on the window of the glass like there was nothing, but sunshine and rainbows going on behind her. “I was thinking about getting pistachio.”

“We’re here so that you can get dessert?”

“You can get something too,” Root walked nonchalantly around the counter where the deli staff were cowering in fear, “What about double chocolate?”

Shaw sighed heavily as she shot back at the operatives trying to kill them, “Get me pistachio.”


	59. "here, hold this kid for a second"

“What - I…Shaw?” Root held the child at arm’s length and looked at Shaw, “What do I do with this?”

“You were a nanny,” Shaw didn’t even look over her shoulder at Root as she dug through the kid’s diaper bag.

“I was also pretending to be french,” Root looked around for somewhere to put the intrusive being. “I’m not entirely sure that the children ever made it home from school.”

Shaw turned around and saw the way Root was holding the baby, “Oh my god. Give me that.”

“What are you doing with my baby?” a woman yelled and ran toward them in the middle of the park.

Shaw put the baby back in the stroller, “We we’re just borrowing this.” She showed the woman the keys. 

“You really shouldn’t keep the keys to your illegal storage locker keys in your baby’s diaper bag,” Root touched the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m not sure we won’t take all of your illegal imports.”

“No promises,” Shaw answered and started walking away. 


	60. Chapter 60

“Is that a…wedding dress?” Shaw asked, putting her hands in her pockets. 

Root stopped the motorcycle and took off her helmet. “Don’t ask.” She hung the helmet on the handlebar and looked at Shaw, “Can I borrow your knife?”

Shaw took a knife out of her pocket, passing it over. Root opened the knife and used it to cut off the bottom three feet of the dress, leaving a less than modest mini-wedding dress. She tossed the extra material aside, “Thanks.” She handed the knife back, “Anyway, I heard you needed a ride.”

Shaw looked around and spotted a group of burglars hastily walking toward her. “I guess so.” She hopped on the back of the motorcycle with the bag over her shoulder.

“What did you steal from the thieves?” Root handed the helmet to Shaw. 

Shaw put on the helmet, “A lot of guns and some precious gems. Maybe like a couple million.”

“Oh nice,” Root smiled and gunned the engine, “Dinner is on you tonight then.”


	61. "What in the---" "Easy Finch, it seems that Root has found out about the newly opened Build-A-Bear shop."

“Build-A-Bear?” Root slammed her foot down on the gas pedal, “I’m offended Lionel.”

“Fine,” Lionel grabbed onto the seat in front of him to keep himself upright as they turned a corner, “Sale on straight jackets.”

“As much as I appreciate the rescue, Ms. Groves,” Harold hugged his briefcase to his chest as they wove in and out of traffic, “Must we abscond with the contraband at such a high speed.”

“You’re going at a high speed without me?” Shaw’s voice rang out in Root and Harold’s ears.

Root grinned and pulled a gun out from between the front seats. She kept one hand on the wheel and fired a few shots out the window at the operatives starting to catch up. “Relax sweetie. We’ll be there in forty-five seconds. I’m going to need you to hang out the window and shoot at them.” 

“Ooh,” Shaw answered, “I just got chills. Is this an automatic or a semi-automatic occasion?”

“Bring whatever you want,” Root slammed on the brakes, sending Harold banging into the dashboard and Lionel hugging onto the seat in front of him. When the dust settled around them, Root looked out the passenger window at the car Reese and Shaw were sitting in, “I’m easy to please.”

Shaw looked at Reese and rolled her eyes before getting out of the car. Harold opened his door and quickly moved to John’s car. Lionel opened his door and tumbled out of the car, “Oh god I love the ground.”

“So dramatic, Lionel,” Root called and checked her rearview mirror. She directed her next instructions to John, “They’ll be here in less than a minute. You better get them out of here.”

“C’mon Fusco,” John called. 

Root revved the engine before fishtailing into a U-turn, heading back toward the Samaritan operatives. She turned the safety off of the gun in her lap. When she looked up, she saw five Samaritan cars heading their direction. A grin crossed her face, “Oh this is gonna be fun.”


	62. Chapter 62

“Not that I don’t love being close to you, Sameen,” Root shook her head to get her hair out of her face, “But is this really necessary.” She moved her rope bound wrists in front of Shaw’s eyes as she walked.

Shaw roughly pushed Root farther up her back and kept trudging on, “You’re injured and we have to evacuate.”

Root tugged on the rope that was binding her hands to the front of Shaw’s belt, “What about this?”

“So you don’t jump off and make a run for it,” Shaw gripped tighter on the backs of Root’s thighs.

The hacker on Shaw’s back looked down at the snow. Finally she stated, “Untie me and put me down.”

“Your ankle is broken,” Shaw replied, obviously annoyed.

“I’m usually down for a little bondage play, but what if I need to shoot someone?” Root looked around them at the frigid forest.

Shaw growled, “You won’t need to shoot anyone.”

“My feet can almost touch the ground anyway,” Root pointed out, swinging her feet.

“One more short joke and I’m kicking down a tree and tying you to it so I can drag you back,” Shaw kicked at some snow as she kept moving her feet.

Root rolled her eyes, “Is this a Marine thing?”

“It’s a you’ll die if I leave you out here by yourself thing.”

“Aww, Sameen,” Root grinned, “I didn’t know you cared.”

“I’m going to stab you,” Shaw huffed.

Root rested her chin on Shaw’s shoulder. “If only you could reach me all the way back here.”

Shaw moved her head away from Root’s like a fly just buzzed her ear, “Stop breathing in my ear.”

“Give me a gun,” Root whined.

“No,” Shaw stated. A second later Root’s face was closer to her ear. Shaw tried to jump away from it, but Root was literally tied to her back, “What the fuck, Root?”

“Give me a gun,” Root repeated.

Shaw took a gun out of the holster on her hip, “You’re like a six year old.” She shoved the gun into Root’s hands.

Root adjusted the gun in her bound hands and pointed it a little to Shaw’s right, “A six year old you just gave a gun.” Root pulled the trigger. There was a groan and then a man fell out of the shadows of the tree onto the ground with a hole in his right knee.

“What a brand new AI in her ear,” Shaw added.

Root moved around a little, making it hard for Shaw to walk in a straight line. “Thirty degrees to the left.”

Shaw turned and Root shot an agent out of a tree.

“One eighty.”

Shaw turned around completely and Root shot another Samaritan agent off of a hill.

“We’re such a good team,” Root rested her head against Shaw’s, “Now giddy up. Our ride is waiting.”

Shaw mumbled, but walked a little faster, “I could kill you with my thumb.”


	63. Chapter 63

“Don’t you think funerals are funny?” Root quietly asked Shaw as they stood in the back of a group of black-clad people all facing an elegant casket.

Shaw looked up at Root, confused, “They’re stupid.”

“And useless,” Root added, scanning around them to make sure that they weren’t being watched, “Everyone here hated this guy. They’re all going to say nice things about him even though not one person here could stand to be around him when he was alive. They’re all here because he had a lot of money.”

“Why are we here?” Shaw folded her hands in front of herself.

“To get a lot of money,” Root grinned.

The person who was speaking stepped down and the podium was empty. Root started walking and Shaw grabbed her, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to say a few words,” Root put her hand on top of Shaw’s that was clutching her jacket. “Trust me.”

Shaw released Root with a roll of her eyes and immediately checked to make sure the safety of her concealed handgun was off.

There were confused faces all around as Root stepped up to the podium and leaned on it. She lazily smiled, “Franklin Groves was a son of a bitch. I mean, pretty much literally. His mother was one of the meanest people I’ve ever met and in my profession I have met  _a lot_  of terrible people.” Root looked through the crowd and pointed, “Look there she is. Hi Grandma.”

A collective gasp was drawn and Shaw’s eyes widened as a smile crossed her lips.

“Ah yes, I bet none of you knew that I existed,” Root smiled widely, “None of you need to know my name because legally I don’t exist anymore. Anyway, I haven’t seen Frank in almost three decades. When he found out my mother had cancer, he left town really fast. I always knew where he was, but it was really useless information for an eight year old to have. And dear old grandma told my mom that the cancer was her fault and Jesus was punishing her. Which is ludicrous. I mean even if god were real the way she thought, I feel like God would be the one doling out the punishment and not Jesus. Jesus seemed really chill with all the wine drinking.”

Root sighed like she was lost in a nice memory, “Anyway, when my mom died, I tracked down Frank just to see what he was up to.” She reached into her jacket and pulled out a gun. She pointed it at a man in the front row, “Please Uncle Bobby. You know this is Texas. Everyone has a gun. Don’t think about reaching for yours.”

The fat man in the front row immediately sat back in his seat.

“I just have a few more words and then we’ll get to the reading of the will because we all know that’s why we’re really here,” Root looked around. She lazily pointed her gun at a woman in the crowd, “Please stand up, ma'am.” Then she did it to a few more women until five of them were standing. “Frank has been sleeping with all of you over the past few months. Including a few prostitutes.” Root put her hand next to her mouth in a faux whisper, “You might want to go get checked for chlamydia.”

The women all looked at each other and three of them stormed off. Two of them sat down and one started crying.

“Alright, now that that’s settled,” Root gestured for a man in the nicest suit of the bunch to walk up to her. “Read the will please.”

A pale, pasty man trembled up to the podium and took an envelope out of jacket pocket. “Uh…um… this is the last will and testament of Franklin Carlton Groves.” He cleared his throat as he ripped the end of the envelope. He shifted uncomfortably and unfolded the single piece of paper. “I, Franklin Carlton Groves, leave all of my earthly possessions, monetary and otherwise to Sameen Shaw.”

Hushed whispered fall over the group. A few more people stormed off, not seeming to care that a gun-wielding madwoman was still running the funeral.

“Aw, sorry Grandma,” Root pretended to smile and then turned to the attorney, plucking the will out of the attorney’s hand who shifted uncomfortably too, “Thanks, Richie. Sorry about the Chlamydia.”

He looked shocked by her, wondering how she knew.

Shaw walked up to the podium with the remaining eyes on her, “What the hell is going on?”

“I had dear old dad’s will changed,” Root handed the will to Shaw. “And legally I don’t exist anymore. Take this to the bank. It’s two blocks that way. Get cash and I’ll meet you back at Harold.”

“What the hell is going on?” Root’s grandmother stood up and demanded.

Shaw took the will and started off toward the bank.

“Well you see, we’re on the run so I don’t have time to explain it all to you in details that you would understand,” Root answered. “To be honest, I don’t know enough one syllable words.” She looked around, “But uh, for your trouble I’ll help with the burial.” She turned her gun off to her side and pulled the trigger. A bullet damaged the crank that was holding the casket over the hole. The casket crashed down into the hole.

Root scooted over to the hole and looked down. She started laughing, “Seriously, one of you stole his cufflinks already?” She look back at the group and smile with a sigh, “Best family reunion.”


	64. Chapter 64

“You think?” Shaw jammed her gun into the sliver of air between the wall closing in on them at then stationary exterior wall.

A loud screech sounded and the barrel of the gun became bent. Root leaned back on the opposite wall, looking up toward the ceiling for a way to escape, “I got a bad feeling about this.” 

“Please tell me you’re not quoting Star Wars when we’re about to be crushed to death,” Shaw rolled her eyes, pulling out her sidearm and putting it on the ground, trying to catch the incoming wall in another place.

Root grinned, “I can’t believe you recognized that.”

“If we don’t find a way to stop these walls, you better hope there’s a trash compactor monster that eats you,” Shaw watched Root looking around. 

“A trash monster won’t be necessary,” Root spotted something promising. By then the wallles were slowed significantly and only a few feet apart. Root pressed her hands to both sides and then hopped up, using her feet to brace herself She continued propelling herself up the wall with surprising speed and then pushed at the ceiling. A panel gave way, “Come on up princess.”

“Don’t for a second think that I am Princess Leia in this,” Shaw started to climb up, “I’m Han Solo.”

“Does that make me Leia?” Root pushed herself out of the open panel and out of danger. She sat down on the edge of their escape to help Shaw up before Shaw was crushed. 

“Yeah and we’re at the part where I want to kill you or I’m beginning to like you. I’d like you more if you could point us out of here,” Shaw watched the barrel of her gun snap and the walls crush closed underneath them. 

Root smiled and began crawling through the vent way from Shaw,  “Right this way you scruffy looking nerf herder.” 


	65. what's a 'lazy day' for root and/or shaw?

“Where are you, sweetie?” Root grinned wickedly behind her blacked out mask of her motorcycle helmet. “I didn’t think it would be this easy to lose you.”

“It wasn’t,” Shaw answered in Root’s ear, revving her engine as she pulled out of a narrow alleyway next to Root.

Root gunned her motorcycle taking off through the small streets of the sleeping tiny town. “Oh good. You’re going to make this interesting.” She grabbed a handgun out of the holster under her jacket and fired a few shots at the side of a stone building, showering Shaw with rocks as she drove.

Shaw had to swerve and duck her head. It caused her to loose speed and lose Root in the process.

“Not that interesting,” Root said into the intercom in Shaw’s ear.

Shaw pulled over and took off her helmet, “Fine. You win. You get to pick where we have dinner.”

There wasn’t a response until a motorcycle pulled up behind her and stopped. Root took off her helmet, shaking her hair free. “I was thinking Italian.”


	66. "Are you hitting on Root/Shaw for me?"

John shrugged, “I’m just trying to help out.”

“That was adorable, John,” Root smiled, leaning on the bar and looking at Reese, Fusco, and Shaw over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

John nodded his head in a welcome.

“You call that a pick-up line?” Fusco asked. He shook his head directing his attention to Shaw, “Listen to this. If looks could kill, you’d be a weapon of mass destruction.” Fusco grinned proudly, “it works on two levels because you are destructive.”

“Okay,” John straightened his jacket, “Tailoring the line to the target. I respect that.” He picked up Root’s hand. “Are you a wi-fi signal because I feel a connection between you and Shaw.”

Root chuckled quietly and Shaw rolled her eyes.

“That was weak,” Fusco signaled the bartender for another drink and when he got it, he slid it in front of Shaw. Then he leaned back on the bar and touched Root’s shirt, “Hmm, Shaw, you know what kind of material this is? Girlfriend material.”

Root put her face in her hands to keep from laughing out loud. Shaw broke a smile and picked up her drink. She met Root’s eyes and they shared an intimate smile before Shaw broke it off, “Alright, alright Bonus points for use of a prop.”

John leaned back on the bar next to Root. He slid his arm behind her on the bar, careful not to touch her, “Shaw has an overnight trip coming up, but she’s afraid of the dark. Will you sleep with her?”

Root’s mouth dropped open amidst a wide smile. She nodded and watched Shaw high-five John. Root nodded, “Okay. That was a good one.”

Fusco buttoned his jacket and leaned toward Shaw, whispering loudly, “You know, they’re gonna ask you to leave soon because you’re making everyone else in this joint look bad.”

Shaw smiled at Fusco and Root touched his shoulder, “Thank you, Lionel.”

John started to open his mouth. Shaw interrupted him, “Do you mind if I show you boys how it’s done?”

John looked surprised, but gestured toward Root. “Please,” Fusco smirked, wondering what kind of line Shaw was going to come up with.

Shaw smirked wickedly as she advanced on Root. She didn’t expect Shaw to put her hand low on her hip or Shaw to place her other hand behind her on the bar. She didn’t expect Shaw to lean in excruciatingly close and whisper in her ear so close that her lips brushed against her ear. 

The words that left Shaw’s mouth wafted their way into her brain and caused her face to flush Each word pushed more air out of Root’s body. The hand that was on her hip, moved up her side to her back, holding her closer.

Root’s eyes fluttered closed a beat before Shaw dropped contact completely. Shaw turned around and picked up her jacket. Root grabbed her jacket as well, muttering something about waiting in the car before quickly walking out the door.

“What did you say?” Fusco asked, “Because I could definitely use some pointers.”

“I told her exactly how we’re going to break into the art museum down the street so I could nail her up against the wall with all the other fine art,” Shaw shrugged her jacket on with a triumphant grin and walked out of the bar.

Reese and Fusco looked at each other. Reese tilted his head, “A line tailored to the target.”

“Sexual, but not too explicit,” Fusco nodded. 

“With the promise of danger and illegal activities,” Reese sipped his drink.

Fusco looked up at him, “You don’t think they’re really going to break into a museum.”

“I’m pretty sure they’ve already broken in.”


	67. Chapter 67

Shaw heaved herself out of her bed in the glass cage she had been in for at least two weeks. It was hard for her to tell because she never got to see the sun and she was sure that she was kept up for at least twenty hours at a time. She bounced a little on her toes, wondering what they were going to throw at her that day.

She looked at the tube that the food usually fell from. There wasn’t anything on the ground yet. Maybe she was up too early.

The large tube rumbled and Shaw stepped out of the way. It sounded like something much larger than the nutrition bar and bottle of water that she was used to.

She looked up at the clear tube and saw an entire person tumbling down. The body fell the six feet to the ground with a thud.

“Root?” Shaw asked.

Root pushed up onto her hands and knees. She coughed a few times trying to get the air back into her lungs. “Hey Sweetie.”

“What are you doing here?” Shaw moved to Root and helped her to her feet.

“I’m here to rescue you,” Root looked down at herself, checking for broken bones that she missed or blood that may be gushing out of her.

Shaw blinked, “By getting yourself captured.”

“That’s the plan,” Root stretched her back. “Although I’m a little rusty on my rescue schemes without my AI friend, we’re still on track.”

A screen that had stood blank overhead for a few days blinked on. It looked to be a timer set for six minutes.

A computerized voice crackled to life from some unseen speaker, “Welcome to the Samaritan Science Computer Aided Enrichment Center. Your testing will begin in three….two….one.”

Immediately, the timer started counting down and one of the glass walls of the cell sunk swiftly into the ground.

Shaw stepped out of the cell and looked toward the round metal door that had just slid open, “C'mon. You don’t want to know what happens when that thing hits zero.”

Root adjusted the elastic waistband of her brand new Samaritan issue orange pants, “All according to plan.”


	68. "I have finesse coming out of my ass"

Root looked down at Shaw’s ass until Shaw pushed her away. Root shrugged and took out a handgun, “I was just checking.”

“Checking out my ass,” Shaw answered, taking the lock picking tools out of her back pocket. 

“Well yeah, that too,” Root leaned back on the wall next to the door Shaw started to break into, watching the dark night for intruders.

“I hate to interrupt,” Harold spoke into their earpieces, “But I was just wondering if you two realize that everyone can hear you.”

“Yeah Root,” Shaw pulled her tools out of the lock and slowly pushed the door open, “Everyone can hear you.”

Root shrugged, “I was just trying to help out a teammate.” She slipped into the doorway next to Shaw and grinned at their close proximity. She lowered her voice, “I am all about helping out a teammate in any way that I can.”

“Ms. Groves!” 


	69. "Is this seat taken?" asked Root with a mischievous grin

Shaw looked up from the knife she was sharpening. She was about to tell Root that she wasn’t sitting down when she saw Root’s finger pointing at her face. 

It took a moment for Shaw to get Root’s meaning, but when she did Shaw rolled her eyes, “That was juvenile.”

Root leaned on the table Shaw was using to hold her cleaning supplies. “I’ve got some other lines, but I think that one was succinct and to the point.” 

“I’m gonna stab you,” Shaw stated, moving her cloth over the blade. 

Root grinned, “Alright. I’ll try again later.” She pushed off of the table, “How do you feel about puns?”


	70. “I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.“

“Well I had to use my pants as a flotation device and I wasn’t wearing underwear so…” Root trailed off, accepting the blanket Shaw was offering her. She draped it over her wet shoulders, trying to calm her shivering body.

“Let me guess,” Shaw took off the coat she was wearing and put it over Root’s shoulders over the blanket, “You killed the pilot of that helicopter and his body moved forward onto the controls and you crashed in the ocean.”

“Of course not,” Root looked at the small sky boat they were on, “I’m not an amateur. The co-pilot’s body fell forward onto the controls. I didn’t think he’d have a gun on him.” Root pulled up the hood on the coat Shaw put on her. “Please tell me there’s food on this boat.”

“No,” Shaw moved to the captain’s chair and pushed the throttle forward to make the boat start moving, “But we can get a sandwich on the way back to the subway.”

“Just a asandwich?” Root moved to the bench seat behind Shaw, “I just survived a helicopter crash. I think I deserve a steak.”

“We have to get you some pants for that.”


	71. "Root" Shaw warned threateningly "stop it, it's driving me nuts"

“Then let me go,” Root glared at Shaw, continuing to rattle the chains between the handcuffs that were holding her to the heavy metal table in the bare, stark white room. 

Shaw tightly gripped the handcuff keys in her hands. She clenched her jaw and looked from Root to the door. Before she could make a decision, the door opened. 

“Ah, Ms. Groves,” Greer folded his hand in front of himself. “You may leave now Ms. Shaw.”

Shaw paused before she moved toward the door. As she stepped out, she had to quickly move to the side because a woman was pushing a small stainless steel medical cart past her, a row of sinister looking torture devices on it. The woman didn’t look at Shaw as she moved into the room where Root was being held. 

Shaw stopped in the hallway, something terrible eating a hole in her stomach. It felt wrong, but she didn’t know why. She watched the door click shut and stared at it for a moment. She couldn’t quite decipher the feeling she was having. The feeling that was alerting her to something awful amiss. 

Then she turned her back on it and walked away. 


	72. Song Prompt: Can I

It was dark and raining.

She knew the power had been turned off intentionally. A quick peek out the window told her that the building all around hers still had power. She could even hear a TV announcing the end of the basketball game in the apartment below hers.

Her hand fit comfortably around the grip of her favorite gun. She was a little light on weapons. She hadn’t been back to her apartment for almost seven months. She’d been on the run. She’d been hiding. It seemed though that someone was catching up to her.

She didn’t get up from the table though. She wasn’t worried. The actual existence of the apartment had been erased from all blueprints and records. All data about the floor she lived on was corrupted in all databases. And of course, she’d stopped using her real name for anything over a decade ago, having completely obliterated any record of who she was before.

Samaritan had taken to sending scouts and they usually traveled alone. It was dangerous for them, but Samaritan was taking heavy losses when they sent entire teams after her. That was only when they found her. She had sent teams of Samaritan operatives on wild goose chases across the planet for her own amusement.

So they started sending one at a time so they could ascertain whether or not she was there before they sent a team.

She watched carefully as the person walked through the door. The person was a shadow, but she had to grip the gun tighter. She knew that shadow.

However, the shadow moved around the apartment like she wasn’t even there. She watched the person move to the wall behind the stove, barely acknowledging her with a curt, “Root.”

Root quirked an eyebrow, “Shaw.” She stayed seated at the table near the window while she watched Shaw knock out a few tiles behind the stove. Then she put a towel over her hand a punched a hole in the drywall she’d cleared of the tile. After blowing some of the dust away, she pulled out a thin metal box.

Root hadn’t seen Shaw in almost a year and this is definitely not show she pictured their reunion. She slowly stood up and rounded the table, keeping close to it. There was nothing about Shaw that looked out of place. Shaw looked alarmingly normal.

The metal box hit the top of the stove with a loud clatter and Shaw unfastened the latch, holding the lid closed, “I see you moved in.”

Root looked over at the bed that was unmade and wardrobe that was standing in the corner that now housed Root’s clothes as well as the ones Shaw left behind. There was an empty coffee cup on the nightstand. Root adjusted the gun in her hand and leaned back on the table, “You aren’t using it.”

“It’s still mine,” there was something less than friendly in Shaw’s voice. It wasn’t completely new, but it was unexpected.

“I’ll leave when you come back,” Root stated, firmly. Her sentence was punctuated by thunder clapping just outside the window.

Shaw tucked something that Root couldn’t see into her back pocket and put something else into the interior pocket of her jacket. Then she moved to the cabinet. She got down two glasses and a very old bottle of bourbon that Root never touched.

Shaw poured them both a drink and then set one of the glasses on the kitchen counter closest to Root, not taking it all the way or even getting remotely close to Root. Root slowly moved for it, keeping her gun in her hand. She wasn’t sure what to make of the situation.

“How is everyone?” Shaw asked, downing everything she poured for herself and then pouring another one.

“Alive. At this point, that’s the best we can do,” Root answered, taking a sip of the bourbon. It wasn’t her favorite drink, but she had known enough about it to know that this was a really great bourbon.

Shaw nodded firmly and only once. She looked toward the flash of lightning that lit up the sky and then looked back at Root.

After a moment, a red dot appeared on Shaw’s chest as she drink her second drink. Root immediately sidestepped, blocking the laser from making it all the way to Shaw.

“Do we have visitors?” Root asked, putting down her drink

It only took a brief second of eye contact for Root to know that they weren’t alone and that it wasn’t safe to talk freely. Shaw was being curt because she didn’t want Root to tell her anything that would hurt the team or The Machine.

Root kept her gun in her hand. She dipped her head down to whisper into Shaw’s ear, “Can I tell you a secret?”

Shaw didn’t answer. She didn’t move. She just allowed Root access into her personal space without a violent reaction.

“I have some tricks too,” Root whispered.

A second later, Shaw heard dull hum of her earpiece stop. The laser that was pointed at the back of Root spun wildly away and then disappeared completely. A light flashed through the window, too controlled to be lightning. Root watched her shadow on the kitchen floor tell her that everything was all clear.

A smirk wrapped its way around Shaw’s lips, “I’m impressed.”

“I did used to do this sort of thing before The Machine,” Root took a step back and picked up her drink. She downed the rest of it and then placed the empty glass in the sink. She opened a drawer near the sink and pulled out a small phone. She walked to Shaw with it and offered it to her, “If you’re ever in trouble.”

Shaw took the phone and looked it over. She put it in her jacket pocket. “I don’t suppose this has a tracker in it.”

“It’s obvious you don’t want to be found,” Root softly sighed. She turned away from Shaw and walked toward the bed. She finally tossed the gun down and sat on the bed. After kicking off her boots, she looked toward the window. A former contact from her old days of killing for hire had taken out the sniper that had been tailing Shaw the disappeared. There was no one on the roof opposite the window anymore and knew it.

“How do you figure?” Shaw asked, placing her empty glass in the sink next to Root’s.

“You’re free,” Root shrugged, “You’re walking around, alive and under your own power. If you wanted to find any of us you could. Lionel keeps charmingly worrying about what Samaritan could have done to your head. His theories range from bomb that goes off if you step out of line to crude brainwashing. But you’re too smart for those things.” Root shook her head and moved her eyes to the floor, then dragged them up to look at Shaw, “So I think, they tried something and you’re just playing along.”

“You think Samaritan would fall for that?” Shaw quirked an eyebrow.

Root shook her head, “But I think people would. And unless you ask Samaritan a question, you don’t get an answer. Not nearly as helpful when you’re trying to condition double agents.” Root rested her hands in her lap. There was silence for a few minutes that confirmed Root’s theory. “Try not to get yourself killed, Shaw. I had to watch it once. I don’t want to have to watch it again.”

Shaw swallowed, “I’ll be fine.” After a moment, Shaw moved toward the back of the apartment and disappeared into the bathroom for a moment. Loud banging and the breaking of tiles sounded before Shaw returned, her sleeve covered in drywall dust. She walked up to the bed and stood in front of Root. She offered Root a small metal square with an almost imperceptible button on it. “If you get into trouble…”

Root gently took the beacon and looked up at Shaw, “It’ll blow your cover.”

Shaw didn’t say anything. She just looked at Root. Shaw knew that if the button went off and her phone signaled to her that Root was in real trouble, none of it would matter.

Root ran her thumb over the button and then placed it on the nightstand, “Thank you.”

Something about Root looked so sad and so defeated. Shaw knew that the team had had to split up to keep from getting caught, which meant that Root was on her own again while John and Harold holed up in a cabin somewhere Samaritan couldn’t quite find. Shaw understood that. She was usually the one that was on her own, but she usually liked it that way. She could see it in Root’s eyes that Root had finally found somewhere to belong and a purpose for being when both were ripped away from her in the span of twenty-four hours.

Shaw dipped her head down and kissed Root. She wasn’t sure at this point it was something that would make Root feel a little better, but it was the only thing she could think to try. This time when she kissed Root, Root kissed back. It was soft and slow and unlike any kiss Shaw had ever shared with anyone before.

Shaw allowed the kiss to continue for as long as Root seemed to want it. She felt long gentle fingers on her jaw and wished she knew what it felt like to be able to fully receive the affection Root was giving her. Finally, Root broke the kiss and slowly opened her eyes. They roamed all over Shaw’s face, mapping the stern features of the woman she had grown to love so much.

Then with a slight nod from Root, Shaw walked around the bed and out the door.


	73. "I told you it would stain!"

“Well I’m sorry that I was bleeding on you,” Shaw didn’t get up from the couch that was housed in their new safehouse in the middle of the desert.

Root looked down at her shirt, “That’s the last time I wear white during a gunfight.” She tossed the shirt into the trash.

John ducked his head under the cabinets that separated the kitchen from the living room, “You two were going to the grocery store.” He moved back to the stove to finish dinner.

“Shaw got into a fight with a separatist militia group,” Root walked toward the kitchen. “Over the last package of bacon.” 


	74. "It's been a long day, Sweetie, you should get some rest."

“Where are we?” Shaw could barely talk. 

Root leaned on the wall by the window, looking out over the breaking morning. “You told me not to tell you.”

Shaw was quiet for a while. She stayed on the bed, her back to Root, “What did they do to me?”

Root dropped her head and swallowed. Then her eyes moved to Shaw, “I don’t know, but we’ll find out.”


	75. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised you and Carter are friends, although I hope she doesn't have the same benefits as I do."

Root smiled to the detective who was sitting at the bar with Shaw, “Hey Joss.”

Joss turned around on her barstool. She nodded, “Root. The last time I saw you, I was putting you in lockup.”

Root grinned coyly, “Sorry about that. I needed to talk to someone.”

Fusco walked up to the group, “Oh good. Looney Toons is here.”

“Speaking of people who had arrested me,” Root turned to Lionel. 

“Oh no,” Fusco saddled up next to Joss, “I’m not arresting you tonight. I’m off duty.”

“I just need these,” Root deftly took Fusco’s handcuffs without him feeling it initially.

He turned around, “Hey. I want those back.”

“C’mon, Sameen,” Root turned around and walked out the door.

“No,” Fusco added, turning back toward the bar. “I don’t want those back.”

Shaw patted Fusco’s back as she followed Root, “Good call.”


	76. "We all know you care about her, Shaw. Including you. Why won't you just tell her?" John questioned

“Because she’ll be insufferable,” Shaw shoved her hands in her pockets as she and John walked through the nighttime streets.

John looked behind them before they started walking down the stairs to the subway. He didn’t answer her. He didn’t see the point.

When they got down to the subway, Harold looked up. He looked relieved that they were there. John picked up Harold’s hat and handed it to him, “C’mon. Let’s go get something to eat.”

Shaw knew what John was doing. He was trying to leave her alone with Root, who was still in the subway train. 

Once John and Harold were gone, Shaw took off her jacket. She slowly walked into the subway car and looked at Root. She swallowed. “We got Control set up in the safehouse. She’s still healing, but she’s ready to help.”

When there wasn’t a replay, Shaw moved farther into the train. She looked at the new monitors that had been set up, making sure everything was staying the same. She looked directly at Root, “I cleaned your gun that I borrowed.”

Shaw hated the silence. She blinked slowly and kicked off her boots. Shaw put one of her hands on the soft material of the bed and used it to push herself onto the foot of the bed. She was careful not to touch Root. 

She pulled her knees to her chest, resting her arms on them. She didn’t know what to say. She knew that if…. that  _when_  Root woke up, she might remember what she said.

But she didn’t know what to say. 

She cleared her throat, her eyes scanning all the wires and tubes coming from Root’s unconscious body, “Your wounds are healing well. And your pulse has been solid…”


	77. 'Damn,' thought Shaw, 'Root is looking hot.'

Root squealed when she felt the cold water on her back. She jumped away from Shaw and looked back at her, “What the hell?”

“You looked hot,” Shaw smirked and brought the water bottle she was emptying on Root’s bikini clad body to her lips. 

Root couldn’t help, but grin, knowing what Shaw meant. She bent back over to pick up a sniper rifle. “Can you focus long enough to hit the target?” She tossed the gun to Shaw.

Shaw caught it and looked around at the ocean all around them, “Is this what you’re doing now? Killer for hire again?”

“Someone has to bankroll the return of The Machine,” Root picked up another sniper rifle and checked the chamber. 

Shaw shrugged and pointed her gun toward the coast, “All of them?”

Root tried to steel herself for the kills she was about to make. She had been through so much since she stopped being a hired assassin. It was going to be a lot harder now that she had grown something resembling a conscious. “Yeah. All of them.”

When the deed was done, they moved the boat into deeper water and tossed the guns overboard. Root moved to stand behind the steering wheel, “So is this what you’re doing now? Following me around and then disappearing to do whatever it is you do.”

Shaw nodded. “Only when you have cool toys to play with.” She gestured toward the steering wheel.

Root stepped away from it, “I know what you’re doing.” When Shaw looked at her, Root shook her head, “I haven’t told Harold or John though.”

“Don’t tell them,” Shaw warmed lowly. 

Root sat back on the curved seat in the back of the boat. She spread her arms on either side of her on the top of the couch, “Harold wouldn’t hear me even if I wanted to tell him. John just sort of hovers behind him now.” Root ran a hand through her hair. She sighed, “I won’t tell anyone that you’re a double agent for Samaritan.”

Shaw nodded and gunned the boat’s engine. She was risking a lot going on missions with Root, but it was the only thing keeping her where she needed to be so that she could work her Samaritan connections. These little trips with Root were something that she wouldn’t admit to always looking forward to. 


	78. "I've been in love with you for too long...I think it's time I let go." Root said softly while stepping away from Shaw's touch.

She started to walk away, but Shaw’s voice stopped her, “Root.” Her voice softened as she rattled the chains that were holding her to the wall of the underground sewer shaft that Root had locked her to. “Come back. We can talk about this.”

Root paused in the doorway. She knew that Shaw wasn’t her Shaw anymore and the woman chained to the wall would kill her in a second, but she still sounded like Shaw.

“I love you too,” Shaw said, relaxing in her chains. 

Root quickly took a step toward Shaw and pressed a gun to the underside of Shaw’s jaw, gritting out as tears filled her eyes, “Don’t you ever say that to me again.”

Shaw dropped the front and smiled wickedly, “God you’re easy.”

Root stared hard at Shaw, angry because that wasn’t her Shaw and that the woman who was different, but somehow kind of the same, was taunting her with her own feelings that she couldn’t seem to control.

Finally, Root took the keys to the locks on the chain out of her pocket. She threw them into the corner of the room, well out of Shaw’s reach, “If you don’t die down here, come find me. I’ll happily put a bullet in your head.”

“No you won’t,” Shaw called back as Root walked away, “Or you’d do it right now.”

Root couldn’t argue with that so she just kept walking away, trying to get a grip on herself and get a handle on the loss of the woman she had loved.


	79. Root and Shaw go to an Astros game.

Root looked up at the sky, huffing again. She pulled her baseball cap down over her brow and looked over at Shaw who was contently eating a hot dog and watching the game.

Root muttered to The Machine and then took out her phone.

“You know it’s cheating to bed on a game after you asked The Machine who wins right?” Shaw asked, not looking at Root. 

Root leaned back in her chair, putting her feet up on the empty seat in front of her, “I can’t tase anyone. I can’t make money. I can’t hack into the jumbotron to broadcast the Rangers game. What can I do, Sameen?”

Shaw handed Root an empty cup, “You can go get me another beer.”

Root narrowed her eyes at Shaw, but stood up, stomping off indignantly. 


	80. root and shaw thanksgiving

“I’m glad my kid is with his mother,” Fusco grunted, crossing his arms for warmth. “This is no way to spend Thanksgiving.”

John paced to the edge of the unfinished skyscraper they happened to be trapped at the top of. “Leon will be here soon to reset the elevator.”

Root moved to stand behind a concrete pillar so she could get a small break from the frigid wind. She wrapped her arms around herself, “There’s going to be an accident and it’s going to start to snow. He won’t be here for four hours.”

“You know Leon’s gonna be late, but that thing in your head couldn’t tell you to make sure the elevator was working before you came up here?” Fusco moved to the elevator shaft and looked down.

“Don’t fall in Lionel,” Shaw moved to the edge of the unfinished floor to stand by John and look down at the lit up street.

John’s phone rang and he tapped his ear to answer, “Hey Leon…” He looked at Shaw, “You’re gonna be late?” She rolled her eyes and he smiled, “Well, we’ll be here.” He looked over at Fusco, “Leon’s gonna be late.”

Fusco rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the update.”

Shaw walked around the tall cement column that was the core of the building, disappearing from sight. A few seconds later she called, “There’s less wind over here.”

Root, Fusco, and John started making their way toward Shaw. She had turned on a work light and dropped her gear bag on the ground against the only wall on the floor. 

As she walked, Root felt the weight of a jacket drop on her shoulders. She offered a smile to Fusco who just nodded in response. Root put her arms in the sleeves that were too short. 

Root sat down next to Shaw’s gear bag and that started everyone else to sitting down in a circle near the wall. 

“I wish I could have eaten before we came,” John mentioned, looking around the empty floor. 

“There’s a granola bar in my pocket,” Fusco nodded to Root. 

Root extracted it and handed it to John. John looked at it, “Anybody else hungry?”

Fusco and Root looked at Shaw. She tilted her head, but replied, “Yeah, I’m hungry. But I came prepared.”

“You’re really going to eat an MRE up here?” Root looked into the gear bag as Shaw unzipped it. 

“No. That’s for emergencies,” Shaw pulled out what looked to be a paper wrapped log, “I got a sandwich.”

“Is that why you were late?” John asked, but he knew the answer.

“There was a long line,” Shaw unwrapped the sandwich. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a knife. With a flip of her finger the knife was open and she cut the sandwich into four. She passed out the small individual sandwiches and settled in to eat her part. 

“Here’s dessert,” John placed the granola bar in the middle of the circle. 

Root reached her hand into Shaw’s gear bag. Shaw frowned with her mouth full, “What are you doing?”

“Sometimes I hide things in your bag,” Root extracted a small bag of chips. She tossed them into the middle, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

Lionel smiled. “You know, this isn’t bad. My first Thanksgiving since my divorce that I’m not stuck behind a desk.”

“My first one in a while where I’m not being shot at,” John added.

“Me too,” Shaw agreed, opening the bag of chips.

Root looked at her sandwich, “My first one with other people since my mom died.” She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. 

There was a quiet that settled around them. Fusco reached over and touched Root’s shoulder over his own jacket. She offered him a thankful smile and offered to give his coat back. He told her he was fine and returned to eating his sandwich. 

“What do you say after this we go get some real food?” Fusco offered the group, “We can pick up Glasses on the way.”

Everyone agreed and Root used John’s phone to get them reservations at a nice restaurant so that they could have a real Thanksgiving dinner as soon as Leon reset the elevator.


	81. Root and Shaw moving in together.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw can't find her underwear box cause Root was a little shit labeling the boxes.

“Root!” Shaw threw another empty box out of the bedroom. She marched down the hallway. Root was sitting under her glass desk, wires all over the place. She didn’t look away from whatever she was rewiring over her head when Shaw walked in, “Why are all the boxes labeled with random letters?”

“They’re not random,” Root smiled, “Exactly.”

“Well I can’t find my underwear box and I need it right now,” Shaw put her hands on her hips. 

Root picked up some needle nose pliers and tilted her head, “It’s a standard elliptic curve algorithm. All you have to do is…”

“Root, c’mon,” Shaw rubbed her eyes, “I just got off of a ten hour flight.”

Root put her pliers and wires down. She crawled out from under the desk and walked past Shaw into the living room. Shaw watched her new roommate start to sort through boxes, giving each one a cursory glance before moving on to the next one. 

The finally picked up a box with a long string of letters and numbers on top, “Underwear,” she said and handed it to Shaw.

“Why did you encrypt all of our boxes so that you had to use The Machine to read them?” Shaw asked, tiredly.

“I didn’t use The Machine,” Root smiled. She kissed the side of Shaw’s head, “The shampoo is in the shower already. I’ll be in bed in a few hours.”


	82. "Sameen, you're kinda clingy." Root said, a gleam in her eyes, "I love it!".

Shaw tightened her grip on Root, “If we weren’t about to die, I’d hit you.”

Root shook her head, trying to keep the whipping wind from hurting her eyes with her own hair, “We won’t die. This is a rescue.”

“Some rescue,” Shaw looked at the ground rushing by under them. She pulled herself up farther on Root’s body. “Who is flying the helicopter?”

“I am,” Root grinned, turning her phone around so that Shaw could see the complex control panel on the small touch screen. “The Navy really shouldn’t leave their helicopters outside at night.”

“Okay,” Shaw finally got her arms around Root’s shoulders, “Two hands on the controls.”

Root slipped her arms around Shaw’s waist to look at her phone over her shoulder in an dangerous aerial hug. She felt Shaw check the harness around her waist and smiled, “It’s on tight, Sameen. I’ve got you.”

Shaw hugged Root more tightly, looking at the length of rope that was keeping them tied to the helicopter which Root was flying remotely on her phone. She was in a dangerous situation, but it was less dangerous than the past ten months of her life. Samaritan had done unspeakable things to her and even though she was dangling from a pilot-less helicopter, she felt safe. 

She buried her face in the mess of hair that was struggling against the wind. She closed her eyes and let the perpetual tension leave her body. 

Root knew that the things Samaritan did or might have done were terrible and she knew that, even sailing through the sky, Shaw was reveling in her freedom. Part of her wanted to tease Shaw for cuddling hundreds of feet above the ground or whisper words of comfort. But she did neither knowing that Shaw placed little stock in words. She made sure the helicopter would stay the course and placed one hand on the back of Shaw’s head in a gesture that would have scared both of them a year ago. 


	83. Holiday weapons shopping

“What are you getting John?” Shaw stepped lazily around the weapon laden basement. 

Root picked up a grenade, weighed it in her hand, and put it back, “I coded a new bluejacking app for him. Twice the speed. Half the hard drive space. Multiple connection capability.”

“Why don’t I get that too?” Shaw asked across the basement from Root. 

Root grinned, “Your present has a little more lace to it.”

Shaw quirked an eyebrow. She knew what that meant. “When do I get my present?”

“Christmas,” Root smiled at Shaw’s eagerness, “There are also actual presents as well. I’ll push the new app onto your phone when I get back to the subway. Just don’t tell John. I only got him a suit jacket so far. The app was supposed to be it for him.”

“I think I’ll get this for Harold,” Shaw picked up a small palm sized gun. “He needs to learn to shoot.”

Root stepped over a man who they had tied up. “I think you’d have more luck with a taser.”

Shaw pushed some drugs off of the table and picked up a taser, “Like this?”

Root nodded, “That’s a good one.” She stepped over the man again and then another one, “For an outdated group of bikers, you sure have some new toys.” She pulled a revolver out of a holster of one of the bearded men struggling at her feet, “What about this for Lionel?”


	84. The Trouble with Leon Parts 1-4

"Leon, stop hitting on Root please."

“Is she your girlfriend?” Leon asked, looking at the woman he had been what he thought was subtly hitting on for an hour while everyone got ready. She was sitting on a bench along the side of the van with a laptop balanced on her knees, in deep concentration. Across from her, Shaw was leaned back on the bench on the opposite side, with a gun in her lap, staring out the back window.

John zipped up his jump suit in the back of the cargo van that Fusco was driving. “No,” he quietly answered. He picked up a gas mask and hooked it to the back of his head, but did not pull it down yet, “But for you own safety, stop hitting on Root. Please.”

“Is she gonna kill me?” Leon’s eyes got wide.

“Probably not,” John answered, “But I’ve been wrong before. Anyway, she’s not your immediate worry.” He tucked a gun into the front of his jumpsuit. 

“We’re here,” Fusco called from the front seat. 

Root closed her laptop and pushed it to the side. She opened the back door and hopped out silently, not waiting for anyone else. 

Shaw hopped out as well, but waited for the others. John jumped out then Leon started to follow. He jumped out, but his foot got caught and he fell onto the damp asphalt. 

Leon groaned and rolled onto his back. He found a gun pointed at his face, “I am your immediate worry.”

“Shit,” Leon put his hands up, “Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t know. You seem like you hate each other. You haven’t said anything to her for hours.”

“We’re working through some things,” Shaw moved the barrel of her gun away from Leon, “And since I owe you one, I’m not gonna kill you here, but if it happens again-”

“Got it!” he jumped up, “I got it.” He watched over his shoulder as he scampered inside after John.

* * *

Part 2

“Leon,” Root was bent over a desk full of monitors and hacked as fast as her fingers could fly while gunfire went off like fireworks all around them.

He looked up from the place he cowered under the desk.

“Leon, have you ever shot a gun before?” she asked, but only a half second before tossing a handgun at Leon.

Leon fumbled with the gun, catching it just before it hit the ground, “Why did you throw a gun? What is wrong with you people?”

Root smiled, “And here I thought we were getting along, Leon.”

“Nope,” Leon shook his head, looking at the gun in his lap like an unpinned grenade. “We were not getting along. I don’t – I ….you’re weird.”

“You sure know how to charm a lady,” Root continued to hack while she had a conversation that amused her. She looked over at Leon who flinched at the gunshots.

He was about to reply, telling her that he really didn’t want to talk to her because he did fear for his life should something remotely complementary slip out of his mouth, but a shadow moving toward them got his attention.

Leon jumped up and pointed his gun at the shadow just as the shadow opened fire. Leon tried to shoot back, standing in the doorway, but the safety was on the gun. Before he knew it, His body was being pressed against the wall with his hand pointed around the corner. Root had used her body to push Leon out of the way and her hand wrapped around his that was holding the gun. She flicked off the safety with her thumb and spoke into his ear, “Pull the trigger.”

Leon closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. Root moved his hand, her words swirling lazily around his ear when she whispered, “Pull.”

He shot again.

She readjusted his hand, “Pull twice.”

It took him three seconds to realize that Root had stopped pinning him to the wall with her body. He could still smell her and offhandedly stated, “You smell nice.”

“Thanks,” Root grinned and moved back to the computer.

“Your radio is on Leon,” John announced in everyone’s ear.

Leon felt around in his pocket and pulled out his radio that was only for emergencies. He quickly turned it off. “Oh no.” He slid down the wall, “She’s gonna kill me.” The radio had turned on when Root pushed him out of the way.

“Who is going to kill you?” Root asked, quirking an eyebrow. Her grand finale was to wipe the entire hard drive and that didn’t take a lot for her. With a few keystrokes the hard drive was erasing itself.

“You girlfriend,” Leon ran his hands over the top of his head, “She told me to back off and that you’re having problems, but she’ll kill me if I keep hitting on you.”

Root froze in place, taking in all of the new information. A slow smile crept up her face. She held out her hand to Leon. “Let’s go.”

He looked at her a little confused and put his hand in her hand.

She rolled her eyes, “The gun, Leon.”

“Can you two stop holding hands and c'mon,” Lionel’s voice traveled from the end of the room instead of over the radio.

Leon’s eyes whipped to where the words came from. He saw it over Lionel’s shoulder. He saw his doom. Dark eyes stared hard at him and a gun smoked in capable hands. He could feel the life leaving his body through his eyes the longer she stared at him.

“Leon,” Root called him more forcefully. He looked at her and took an immediate step back. “I need my gun.”

Leon looked at his hand that had the gun in it. He laid it flat in his palm and offered it to Root to minimize contact. Root took the gun and led the way out the door.

After a momentary lapse of mobility, Leon quickly moved to John’s side. He whispered, “It wasn’t what it looked like. You can’t let her kill me.”

John tried not to smile when he started walking, “I don’t know what makes you think I can stop her, Leon.”

* * *

 

Part 3

The ride back to the rendezvous point was almost silent. Root was buried in her computer again. John and Shaw sat next to each other, cleaning their guns.

Leon had refused to sit in the back of the van with everyone else. Fusco rolled his eyes as Leon rubbed his right ear again. “What’s the matter with you?”

“That psycho in the back grabbed the back of my jacket and held me in front of her like a human shield. She shot her gun right next to my ear,” Leon kept rubbing his ear, “It’s busted or something.” He mumbled, “I’m probably going to have tinnitus for the rest of my life.”

“You keep talking about Shaw like that the rest of your life is gonna be short,” Fusco frowned. He turned a corner and nodded to himself, “And she’s a sociopath. Not a psychopath. Coco Puffs back there is probably some kinda psychopath.”

“Look, I didn’t know they were dating,” Leon tried to figure out how he could get out of ever having to help John and Harold again. “They keep glaring at each other. You people are weird.”

“They’re just going through some things,” Fusco’s voice became earnest. “It’s been a rough year. For everyone, but especially those two.” He paused thinking over a few things. He licked his lips and pulled the van to a stop under the bridge where the group met up. “I know you didn’t know, but for future reference stay away from Shaw, alright?”

“No problem,” Leon opened the door and slid out of the van, “Please don’t ever call me again.”

“No promises.”

Leon jumped and fell to his knees onto the dirt patch next to the asphalt. He scooted away from Shaw who had already gotten out of the van and was standing behind him. “Jesus.” Leon scrambled to his feet and ran to his car that was parked in the abandoned lot adjacent to the bridge.

Shaw let out the smallest smile as she watched Leon peel out of the lot. 

“C’mon,” Fusco gestured Shaw into the van, “You need a ride.”

Shaw put her hands in her pockets and watched Root put her laptop in a backpack, sling the backpack on, and then mount a motorcycle without so much as a look back. 

John was waiting for Shaw next to his car, but she nodded to him before getting into the van with Fusco. 

“Let’s go get some tacos,” Shaw closed the van door and put on her seatbelt.

“Alright,” Fusco nodded, pulling out from under the bridge. 

Their motorcycle riding friend pulled up next to them before getting onto the road, taking off in the opposite direction. 

Fusco saw Shaw’s eyes follow Root in the sideview mirror until she was out of sight. “Sam, I-”

“Don’t,” Shaw cut Fusco off sharply. She clenched her jaw and put her hands back in the pockets of her jacket. She didn’t want to talk about it. 

“You can’t scare me like that poor kid back there,” Fusco smirked. “We’re pals and you know it.” His smile faded into seriousness, “Whatever is going on with the two of you, you gotta work it out.” He paused and when Shaw didn’t say anything he added, “I don’t know if you remember….before….but she was a mess. She busted her knuckles trying to get out of that elevator. I’ve never heard anyone scream like that.”

“I remember,” Shaw looked out the window, “If you want to lecture me, you can let me out right now.”

“I’m not going to lecture you,” Fusco shook his head, “I just want you to remember that she did her best to find you. She didn’t eat. She didn’t sleep. Every time I saw her, there was some kind of new cast or sling because she’d gotten hurt, but she didn’t stop.” Fusco paused, grappling with the right words, “I don’t know if it’s you or her or both of you, but I know that whatever it is, is stupid. We’ve all outlived our life expectancy. Especially Cuckoo’s Nest with the way she runs toward gunfire.”

He looked over at Shaw who he knew was listening, but was pretending like she wasn’t. “We don’t know when she’s going to run into one of those things and not come back out.”

Shaw rolled her neck, “I don’t know what she wants.”

“Have you asked?” Fusco looked over at her as he pulled to a stop at a light. 

There was silence and he smiled. He shook his head, “You’re two of the smartest people I know, but you’re kinda dumb.”

Shaw rolled her eyes. “Do you know where she hangs out these days?”

“Yeah,” Fusco looked both ways and turned right, “John’s not that only one that keeps tabs on people he cares about.”

* * *

 

Part 4

Shaw had her hands in her pockets when she walked into the dimly lit bar. It was obviously old and lacked any kind of surveillance system. Once inside, Shaw removed her baseball cap and surveyed the room. All was normal until she heard a loud thump. Her hand automatically held her gun in her pocket tighter, until she saw who it was.

“Why are you following me?” Leon pushed himself up off of the floor from where he had fallen off of his bar stool in a panic upon seeing Shaw. “I didn’t know!”

Shaw looked through the rest of the bar. “I’m not here for you.”

Leon dusted himself off and plopped down on his bar stool. He picked up his beer and drained it. Then he gestured to the bartender, “Whiskey or something equally intoxicating. A double…make it a triple.” He looked over his shoulder at Shaw, “There’s no one else here.”

“There is,” Shaw walked through the bar toward the back. She passed a bathroom and a closet door. She walked through the last door, finding herself facing some wooden stairs that led up. They creaked when she walked on them and when she got to the first landing, she quickly stepped back down. There was a camera on the stairs. Shaw hooked the baseball cap on her head and keep her head down as she ascended the rest of the way.

There was another door at the top of the stairs that looked a lot newer than the ones in the bar and at the bottom of the stairs. She reached for the knob when she door clicked loudly. When nothing happened for a moment, she pushed through the door.

Inside of the door was a small apartment with windows on three sides of it. It was mostly bare save for a bed laid messy with blankets and haphazard pillows and a desk in the middle of the room. There were four monitors set up, all lit with codes and things that Shaw didn’t understand. On the bottom corner of the lowest screen, the camera feed from the stairs was live.

Root was in the chair facing the monitor with a laptop resting on the desk in front of her. Her fingers flew over the keys as she ignored Shaw.

Shaw looked down at the beaten wood floors, trying to come up with something to say.

Root stopped typing and reached under her desk. A plastic bag flapped as she dropped it onto her desk. Shaw could smell it before she even wondered what was in the bag. Shaw crept toward the desk until she could extract her favorite sandwich from the bag.

Shaw looked around from somewhere to sit while she ate. She settled on a windowsill and opened her sandwich. “Did you see Leon downstairs?”

“I saw him fall off of his stool when you walked in,” Root let a small smile out.

“I didn’t see a camera,” Shaw took a bite of her sandwich thinking that maybe the casual conversation was good.

Root pulled up a camera to show Leon talking with the bartender, “It’s on the shelf behind the light. I had to put a filter on it so I could see, but the light camouflages it well.”

Shaw nodded. There was more silence while she ate the rest of her sandwich. Being full was making her tired. She covered up a yawn before taking the last bite of her sandwich.

“You can stay here,” Root offered quietly, “I know you haven’t been sleeping. The door is bulletproof and has electronic vertical and horizontal locks. I have guns.” She finally turned away from her screens to look at Shaw, “I’ll stay up and make sure everything is okay.”

Shaw wasn’t sure how Root knew that she wasn’t sleeping. She has been staying in the extra room of John’s safehouse, but she hadn’t been sleeping because she just didn’t feel like it was safe. She clenched her jaw and tapped the glass behind her. “One way?”

Root nodded. “Also bulletproof.”

Shaw was so tired and she wanted nothing more than to sleep for longer than her usual fifteen minutes at a time. It had been so difficult since being rescued from Samaritan.

“You still mad at me?” Shaw asked, standing up. She saw a trash bin under the desk and walked to the desk. She leaned closed to Root to throw the sandwich wrapper away.

Root looked up at Shaw, “I was never mad at you. I was…scared. I was worried that you’d be…different. I don’t know how to….handle it” She sighed softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Shaw held Root’s eyes. She could see that Root was worried and entirely apologetic.

Neither one said anything after that because there wasn’t anything to say. Shaw took off her jacket and moved to the bed to lay down. She could smell Root in the sheet and closed her eyes. Something about it relaxed her. She knew that Root would watch over her and she would be safe. So for the first time in months, Shaw fell asleep easily and slept well.

 


	85. Saving Ben

Shaw walked into the psychiatrists office with a grumpy slouch. She slumped down on the leather couch and waited for the shrink to walk in the door.

She was left alone for quite some time, quite longer than she would have liked. She moved around on the couch trying to get comfortable. She put her head in her hands and her elbows on her knees. Then she sat up straight. Her final position was sitting against the back of the couch with one arm on the armrest.

The door opened and a tall man stepped in, his dark hair closely cropped to his head and his slacks ironed meticulously. He looked older than Shaw remembered him and she rolled her eyes because obviously he would be much older than the last time she had seen him.

“Sam?” he asked, turned toward her with a warm smile and a file in his hand. “Is that short for something?”

“It is,” Shaw stood and shook the man’s hand. She didn’t add anything. She just sat back down.

He stood still realizing that Shaw was definitely going to be difficult, “I see that you’ve been referred to me by Stoneridge Psychiatric Facility.” He moved to an armchair that was perpendicular to the couch. He sat down and folded the cover of the file back, “Do you know why that is?”

“Continued outpatient care probably,” Shaw shrugged. She was tired. She hadn’t been sleeping well, or really at all lately. Shaw rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath to keep herself from just walking out. She had to stay. She knew that.

“Alright,” he looked at the file in his lap, “Why do  _you_  think you need to be here?”

“The cartel hit squad coming down the hallway,” Shaw didn’t move from the couch.

The man squinted at Shaw. “Do you see the cartel hit squad coming down the hallway?”

“Not yet,” Shaw cocked her head to listen for a moment. She stood up, “You may want to cover your ears.”

“I think you should-” the door opened an a flash bang grenade bounced on the ground. Shaw kicked it to the corner and raised her gun, firing into the mob of assassins trying to rush in the door.

The doctor had jumped behind his chair and peeked out a second after the noise had died down. Shaw was searching the dead bodies for a radio earpiece that she wiped on his shirt and put in her ear. She tapped it and listened. There wasn’t any sound. She left it there just in case whoever put the hit out wanted to talk to the now-dead hit squad. She gestured to the door, “We have to get out of here.”

He nodded numbly and followed her out the door. He followed her to the parking lot and into a black sedan that she sped away from the office. He grabbed onto the handle of the door to keep himself steady. “What does it say about me that I only now recognize you that you’re in a car?”

“It says that the last time you saw me, you pulled me out of a wrecked car,” Shaw turned a corner hard and slowed down, entering a stream of traffic down the small town road.

“That was almost thirty years ago,” he looked out the window, watching him town slowly roll by.

Shaw pulled into the parking lot of the first diner she saw and turned off the car, “C'mon. I gotta eat if I’m going to take on another hit squad.”

He sat at the booth and watched the woman who used to be the little girl that had perplexed him so when he was younger, scarf down pancakes and coffee like it was her last meal.

“Hey Shaw,” a familiar voice chimed into Shaw’s ear.

Shaw flinched away from the sound, but remembered the transmitter in her ear, “Jesus, Root.”

A smiled was evident in Root’s voice, “How’s my favorite outlaw?”

“Outlaw?” Shaw asked, unimpressed by Root’s new name for her. “How’d you find me?”

“I am very good at my job,” Root answered, “And my job right now is hired assassin. Your new friend Ben was dropped in my inbox this morning. It didn’t take me long to find a connection and, well, you’re very loyal to a small group of people. I’m sure Ben is one of them. I don’t know who the rest are.”

The last sentence was an obvious dig at Shaw not having contacted anyone on the team for almost a year. Shaw stuffed some pancake in her mouth and answered, “If you’re not going to help me, get out of my ear.”

“There’s a train leaving Willowbrook in half an hour,” Root sighed softly, “You and Ben have tickets under Matt and Michelle Arnold to Philadelphia. I assume you can handle it from there.”

“I can,” Shaw answered. Shaw looked across the table and saw Ben skeptically listening to a one-sided conversation. “This line secure?”

“Of course,” Root replied airily.

“I’ll be at the Oak Park hotel. Room seven ten.” Shaw stated. She looked down at her food, “Once I’m done with this.”

There was a long silence and Shaw knew that Root was thinking it over. Finally her answer came in a simple, “Okay.” Then Root was gone.

Ben realized that Shaw was done talking and asked, “Do you have backup?”

“No,” Shaw picked up her coffee, “Not anymore.”

“Then who was that?”

“A fr-” Shaw almost choked on the word friend. Honestly she wasn’t sure where she stood with Root. Or John. Or Harold. Or Lionel for that matter. She had not only been abducted, but she had joined the enemy cause. She had slithered up their ranks until she was a Samaritan operative in her own right. She had started with a plan, but everything had escalated so quickly and before she knew it Root, John, and Harold were taking on the entire organization on their own and apparently without the help of The Machine.

“You know I became a psychiatrist because of you,” Ben tore apart a piece of toast and took a bite, “Excuse my naivety at the time, but you freaked me out. I wanted to know more about you and about people like you.” He shrugged, “I was a paramedic with the fire department through my undergraduate. went on to medical school, and found my answer. You’re not bad or weird. You’re just different. Same as me. Same as that waitress over there. Same as that friend in your ear.”

“She’s not my friend,” Shaw mumbled. She really didn’t know what she was going to say to Root if she showed up. Maybe she would try to explain how everything go to out of control. There were psychoactive drugs. There was conditioning. There was all kind of unspeakable things that Shaw started to go along with because it made them seem less painful. Then she convinced the Decima people that she was one of them. Maybe somehow they had convinced her as well.

Ben let Shaw believe what she wanted, but she had seen the relief in Shaw’s face when whoever chirped in her ear, startled her.

Shaw rolled her eyes when she found herself the recipient of a knowing smile. Ben tried to keep it under wraps, but he failed when Shaw threw down her utensils. She stood up, “C'mon. We have a train to catch.”


	86. Root chuckled weakly, blood dripping from her nose "and I thought you wanted me to speak up"

Lambert rolled up his sleeved and paced slowly in front of Root, “Give it up. Your Machine is dead. Your girlfriend isn’t far behind. Unless…” He stopped pacing and stood in front of Root, crossing his arms, “If you give up Harold Finch and his pet wolverine, maybe we can arrange for your girlfriend to be released.”

“What makes your think I’d trade me and Shaw for Harold and Lurch?” Root looked up at Lambert an amused smile on his face, rattling the cuffs that kept her tied to the chair..

“Oh no,” he shook his head, “This is a two for one. Harold and Reese for Ms. Shaw.” A wicked smile crossed his face, “You’re not going anywhere. You’re too much of a risk. You helped rebuild whatever feeble, limping, bargain bin app you’re calling the Machine. Even if it is not at full speed, it’s still dangerous and you’re too dangerous with it.” He knelt down in front of Root to look at her face, “I let your girlfriend go if you give me Harold and John.”

“You wanna know something about my girlfriend?” Root leaned forward as far as her cuffed hands behind the chair let her, “She’ll be gone from Samaritan custody in about two minutes.” She smile on her face ominous and dominating. 

“How do you know that?” Lambert stood up trying not to show how shaken Root had made him. 

The handcuffs dropped on the concrete flood behind the chair, “Because my girlfriend taught me to fight.” She lunged from the chair and landed a wicked punch square to Lambert’s jaw. He recoiled and threw a punch her way. Root ducked the punch, used Lambert’s momentum to bring him down hard on her knee, knocking the wind out of him. He dropped to the ground and Root placed a boot on his neck. 

She wiped the blood from her nose away with the back of her hand as Lambert struggled to say, “Your Machine is alive.”

“Not yet,” Root told him, leaning harder on his neck as his hands scratched at her boot to get it off, “Before the Machine I was very resourceful. I hacked into your warehouse security cameras. I’ve been tracking your vehicles. I know where Shaw is and I got myself caught to distract you so Harold and  _his pet_  could rescue her.” 

Lambert let out a strangled laugh and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his phone and showed it to Root. There was a call in progress. He gasped, “Samaritan knows now.”

Root kicked the phone out of Lambert’s hand and crushed it with her foot before returning it to Lambert’s throat. She leaned her forearms on her knee and smiled down at him, “Did I forget to mention that they rescued Shaw half an hour ago? The pressure plates that detect changes in weight in her cell have been replaced with a Shaw amount of explosives that are going to go off….” She looked up at the clocked in the window walled office in the warehouse. She watched the second hand tick around before it met the twelve and a low rumbled sounded in the distance. 

Root let got of Lambert who rolled to his side gasping for air. She sauntered over to the chair she had been in, picked up the handcuffs, and walked back. He wasn’t in any state to fight her when she handcuffed him to a forklift. She made sure to take the keys out and throw them across the warehouse. 

A phone rang disrupting the victorious silence. The tan phone in the office was ringing an archaic tone loudly through the vast space. Root moved to the office, sat in the supervisor’s chair, put her feet up on the desk, and picked up the phone.

“Root?” Harold’s voice was a welcome tone in her ear.

“We’re all good on this side Harry,” Root grinned. 

“You’ll be happy to know that the rescue was a success. We’re on our way back home,” Harold paused, “Ms. Shaw seems to be…she’s had….” he sighed softly, “They’ve had her for quite some time.”

“I know,” Root had prepared herself for the possibility, but it was still a punch in the gut to know for sure, “Keep her sedated until I get there.”

“Be careful,” Harold hung up on his end, keeping the call brief.

Root looked to Lambert who was struggling against the forklift trying to stand up at least. She debated killing him or not. In the end, she didn’t want to expend the energy and walked out of the warehouse toward a new kind of unknown. 


	87. Call me tiny again and i will end you.

“We are locked in the trunk of a Jetta,” Root quietly muttered into the dark between the grunts of trying to get her hands unbound, “Tiny is a compliment.”

“Jesus, watch your knees, Root,” Shaw scooted away as best she could from the jerking knees that were constantly moving near her face. 

“Sorry,” Root straightened out her legs and tried to get a handle on what was keeping her wrists behind her back, “I can’t-” She heard the soft metallic thud of handcuffs on the carpeted floor of the trunk, “You just got yours off didn’t you?”

“You’ve been trained for this,” Shaw felt around the trunk to get a better understanding of how big their space was. “Turn around. I’ll get you out.”

Root rolled to her other side and scooted toward the outside of the trunk to give Shaw room. She felt nimble fingers start working to get her out, “If I miss the beta test…”

“Harold is not going to turn on the Machine again without you,” Shaw unlocked Root’s handcuffs. “Especially after what happened last time. Where’s my knife?”

Root reached into her bra and pulled out a small knife, “They never check bras. Polite, but stupid.”

The car lurched to a stop and Root violently rolled into Shaw. Shaw took a knee to the face and recoiled. 

“Oh shit, are you okay?” Root reached down and touched Shaw’s face with her hand.

Shaw batted her hand away, “I’m fine.” She opened the knife when she heard a key in the lock of the trunk and as soon as she opened it, sprang out, incapacitating two men who had kidnapped them.

Root slipped out of the trunk gracefully and looked around the warehouse they were brought to. She looked around and smiled, “Oh yes. This was worth pretending to be kidnapped.”

Shaw smiled, walking to the nearest crate and pushing the lid off. She plunged her hand inside and extracted an AK-47. “So worth it.”


	88. Reese wants Shaw and Root to stop

“Can you two…maybe stop?” John asked. 

Root smiled from her place where she was sitting on the desk. Shaw didn’t stop kissing at Root’s neck to answer. It was a mumble against skin, “No.”

“She says it helps her remember,” Root tilted her head so Shaw could kiss down her neck, “Who am I to impeded her progress?”

John looked away and put his hands in his pockets, “Should I go on a coffee run then?”

“Please,” Root felt hands start to creep up her shirt, “Take your time and um…warn Harold,” she closed her eyes when Shaw placed a soft, but firm bite on her neck, “I don’t think his heart can take walking in on us again.”


	89. "Did you steal candy from children?"

“It’s not for me,” Root looked at the handful of candy that she had picked out of a bag of a passing child. She picked out the non-chocolate ones and tossed them into the passing bag of a pre-teen dragon. 

“You’re stealing candy for The Machine?” Shaw asked, weaving in and our of groups of children running out with costumes on.

Root put the chocolate into her pocket, “No. It’s for John. He likes chocolate when he’s upset and he’s going to be really upset when I tell him that I’ve been hiding you in Connecticut for two weeks after the rescue without letting him know either of us were alive.”

“Is that why you stole that ridiculous hard drive on the way here?” Shaw nodded to the doorman of John’s safehouse building from behind her plastic cat mask. 

Root smiled from inside a fox mask. “Harold likes to format blank hard drives when he’s upset.” 


	90. "Are you eating pizza with a knife and fork?"

Root looked up, a glaze of confusion on her face, “What else am I supposed to do?”

“Pick it up with your hands and eat it like a human,” Shaw took a sip of her beer. She looked over at the stove in the small cabin and knew she was going to have to put more wood in it before night fell. 

Root shook her head, “With what I’ve been handling today, I’m not eating anything with my hands.” She cut another piece off and put it into her mouth. 

“So,” Shaw picked up another slice of pizza and put it in her mouth. She bit down on it so it would hang in her mouth while she moved to the stove and put more wood from the neat pile next to it into the stove. When she was done, she took a bite and grabbed the pizza as it dropped, “Whose place is this and why are we here?”

“I don’t know and I don’t know yet,” Root answered, “I didn’t get that far.”

“So you ambushed a Samaritan caravan without John, without Harold, and without The Machine, without a plan,” Shaw kicked out her chair against and sat down across from Root, “But with a rather impressive grenade launcher.”

“When I do rescues,” Root grinned, “I go all out.”

Shaw tipped her chair back and studied Root for a moment. She knew that she had been through a lot. They both had. Shaw herself had been captured and tortured by Samaritan operatives for months. Root looked a little less like herself. She looked frayed and tired. Without The Machine Root seemed a little lost.

But the pair of them could take care of themselves and more importantly they could take care of each other. 

Shaw had always been drugged during transport, but she understood what was happening when the car in front of them suddenly blew up. She knew what was happening when her own car flipped. She had gotten her hands on one of the operatives’ guns and crawled out a window. She laid on her side on the snowy ground and shot two operatives who had finally found out that a Tec-9 wielding Root was the one that had disrupted their caravan. 

Once the operatives had been dealt with, Shaw passed out from the drugs and blood loss. She woke up in a tiny cabin in the snow covered mountains somewhere she couldn’t quite get narrowed down. 

“What have you been doing in the tool shed?” Shaw asked, draining the rest of her beer. She put the empty bottle in the sink without having to stand out of her chair.

“I’ve been doing some fun things with that tracking chip I pulled out of your neck,” Root paused her eating, her utensils hovering over her plate. “I’ll need another day and then we can go meet Harold and John.” She started to cut more pizza then added, “And Bear.”

“Are you alright?” Shaw asked, knowing that a quiet Root meant a troubled Root. 

Root offered a small smile, “I’m fine. I’ll get you to the safe house soon.”

“You’re staying right?” Shaw asked, “You’re not dumping me off to go on another insane mission right?”

Root avoided looking right at Shaw. She knew that Shaw would know the plan so she went ahead and admitted it, “You’ll be safe there.”

“You’re the one that said we’re not safe anywhere anymore,” Shaw stated, letting her chair fall onto four legs. “I’m coming with you. You don’t have The Machine anymore. You need backup.”

“I’m good at operating on my own,” Root’s smile turned sad. She let it fall altogether when she looked back at Shaw, “And you’re still healing.”

“You can tell me where you’re going or I can go to the tool shed and find out what you’ve been doing for six hours a day,” Shaw picked up another slice of pizza.

Root put her utensils down, “I have to sneak an EMP into Cuba.” Root leaned forward on the table. 

“Then get me a passport and I’ll start brushing up on my Spanish,” Shaw stood up from the table. “I’m going to go get more firewood before it get’s dark.”

Root reached under the table and pulled off a gun that had been fastened to the bottom of the table. She set it on the table nearest the door and kept a subtle eye on Shaw who grabbed the gun and walked out of the door. 

She waited a few minutes before making her way through the snow to the tool shed. It was chilly inside to keep the servers cool. Root sat down at the desk and opened a chat window. She started typing at quickly as she could, sending Harold an urgent message.

Once it sent, she sat back in her chair waiting for a reply. 

“You honestly don’t think that you can drug me and drop me off with John at a diner in Iowa without a fight,” Shaw’s voice was low and cold. 

Root didn’t physically jump, but her internal organs felt like they all did. She slowed turned around, “I can’t take you with me. Samaritan is looking for you.”

“They’re looking for you too,” Shaw leaned back on the closed shed door. “Your face is everywhere in Samaritan operation sites. You’re Samaritan enemy number one.”

“I can’t let them get you again, Sam,” Root decided to just level with Shaw. Lying wasn’t going to get her anywhere. “It’s my fault you got captured and my fault you were stuck with them for so long. I can’t stand for it to happen again.”

Shaw understood why Root felt the way she did. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, “You can take me with you or I can subdue John and Harold and follow you.”

“You won’t subdue Bear?”

“Bear would come with me,” Shaw answered evenly.

Root rubbed her eyes. She really didn’t want Shaw to go with her. She really wanted Shaw to be somewhere safe while she did something dangerous and possibly stupid. But she knew Shaw wouldn’t stay down without a fight. “I’ll get you a passport.”


	91. 'Keep your hands off my gun Root

“Please tell me that’s a metaphor,” Fusco called halfway down the stairs that led into the basement. 

Shaw turned bewildered to the stairs, “A metaphor for what, Fusco?”

“It’s just a gun,” Root picked up the rifle and put it against her shoulder, “and I need it.”

Shaw reached for the gun and grabbed a handful of air when Root took a step away, “I have the sights set how I like them.”

“I won’t move your sights,” Root rolled her eyes. 

Shaw grabbed for the gun again and actually snagged it. She yanked it from Root’s hands, “You don’t get to use my gun.”

“As much as I enjoy watching you two right,” Fusco gestured between the pair, “Why am I here?”

“I need a ride,” Root told him, then turned to Shaw, “and a gun.”

“I’ll go with you,” Shaw stated, putting her gun back in the bag.

“I’m going to Mexico.”

“I’m not driving you to Mexico,” Fusco shook his head.

“I just need a ride to the docks,” Root stated. She put her hands on her hips, “And that gun.”

Shaw picked up the gun bag, “We just need a ride to the docks, Lionel.”

“Jeez,” Fusco moved back to the stairs and started going up, “I’ll be in the car when you two figure out where you’re going.”

“I’ll be in the desert for seven hours.”

“Good. It’s too cold here.”

“Without a tent.”

“I could use a tan.”

“There’s a seventy-two percent chance of machine gun fire coming my way.”

“Then it’ll be good to have a doctor handy.”

Root huffed, “Fine. You can come with me.” She marched toward the stairs, “If you don’t trust me with your gun,  _you_  shoot the guerrilla leader from a desert cliff. I’ll go to the tequila distillery two miles away and wait for you there.”

Shaw grinned and looked down at the gun bag, patting the side, “You hear that? You get to shoot someone.” Shaw grabbed a backup gun and started off after Root, “And I get tequila.”


	92. Don't wake her.

“Why is she gonna bite me?” Lionel asked Shaw. He nodded toward the bed where Root was sleeping, “I thought you were the grouchy one.”

“I am the grouchy one and if you wake her up a bite will be the least of your worries,” Shaw pushed Lionel out of her apartment, “What do you want, Lionel?”

“Glasses sent me over here to check on you two,” Lionel answered, “It was between me and the big guy and I drew the short straw.” He looked Shaw over. he could see a bruise just started to disappear on the side of her face, “Where have you two been?”

“The new…the machine or new machine or whatever has Root running all over the country,” Shaw shook her head. She rolled her eyes, “I don’t know what she’s doing, but I do know that the last time she went alone, she showed up here with a six inch laceration in her abdomen.” Shaw rubbed her eyes, “We just got back from Vatican City. So tell Harold that we’re fine. We’re just busy.”

Lionel frowned, “What were you doing in Vatican City?”

“Breaking seven international treaties and some Swiss Guard’s femur,” she put her hand on the door, “Goodnight Lionel.”

“It’s eight in the morning,” He called as she shut the door.


End file.
